Chronicles From Mandalore: More than blood
by daennika
Summary: Part 2: The escape of Bardan Jusik to Taris while the Empire has more than one reason to get its hands on him. A Mandalorian's struggle to protect his loved ones in a galaxy of violence, treachery, death... and a certain Jedi exterminator.
1. Chapter 1

**CHRONICLES FROM MANDALORE**

**More than blood**

_Author's note: This is the sequel to __Chronicles from Mandalore: What it takes__, a tale of Mandalorians with leading character Bardan Jusik from the canon series _Republic Commando_ by Karen Traviss. I don't own him or other recognizable characters that I just borrow to drive the story on in the _Star Wars _universe._

_I want to thank all the fans and readers who enjoyed _What it takes_, I wouldn't be writing this new story if it weren't for your support. So now I'm focusing on taking the higher level and we're leaving Mandalore to explore a bit of the galaxy…_

**Middle City Spaceport, Taris. Day 1**

She slapped her large webbed hand on the durasteel counter to make the human snap back to reality and get to work. It was the same old reactions everywhere she went: people, humans and non-humans alike, just weren't used to seeing Mon Calamari outside a ship or other contained environment. Eevy Tolod reiterated her request more urgently.

"I need storage for my ship."

The man lazily typed on his terminal. "Large, medium size?"

The Barloz-class she'd salvaged from the Anoat sector was rather large for a medium freighter so she could go for the extra room if that wouldn't place her on the surveillance grid. "Medium please."

"What's the cargo," the man yawned.

"No cargo I'm not here for business."

He eyed her suspiciously again and she refrained from rolling her eyes in exasperation, a habit she'd picked up from a mercenary she knew. Mon Calamari were not smugglers, they even loathed their kind and Eevy could use that to her advantage.

"There's a Quarren family party I'm invited to."

"Right." He finished typing commands on his machine then handed her a key card. "Hangar Beta-Three-Two on the second dock. That will be a five hundred credits deposit."

She reluctantly gave him a credit chip and hurried back to her landing pad with her blaster pistol in hand to check her ship for any intruders. The hatch had a securing lock and access code panel but she wasn't taking another risk after losing her first ship in the past. Once she was sure to be alone in the craft she moved it to her assigned hangar, checking her chrono and took her T24 out in the open. She was just in time for the RV.

Taris was a busy place with lots of job opportunities. Eevy didn't complain about the over-population problem in the Middle City or the swoop gangs and thugs because at least she could appreciate the oceanic air near the coasts. She kept a window open to let the fresh sea breeze inside the airspeeder and maneuvered between imaginary lanes until she got to a sleazy place called the _Brown Bolt_ themed on the generations of builders reconstructing the parts of Taris that were destroyed three millennia ago. Her eyes quickly sorted the regulars from the people she was looking for and that wasn't difficult since they were wearing full body armor.

Eevy walked in briskly turning her long cranium around to acknowledge her surroundings. Yes, she was a conspicuous fish-woman with a flight jacket and a blaster at her side. Coming up to her clients she was about to tell them that exact phrase before the one in green armor nodded to her.

"Right on time," he said making a point of knowing who she was.

Eevy sat at their booth still keeping a peripheral eye on the regulars staring at her now because she was in curious company. The couple wore almost identical outfits but the female one's was painted white and purple and they had their helmets placed on the tabletop. If they had weapons she couldn't see them - yet.

"Interesting uniform. It tells me two things: either you're running from something or you're chasing another. Both wouldn't surprise me."

"Aren't we all running from something?" Green philosophically said. "So I'm guessing Kal never showed you his true nature."

Kal Skirata was their common link. Eevy had worked a few times with him to salvage ships and vehicles around the Outer Rim, sometimes real estate rehabilitation was in her area of expertise provided the tools and resources. The man paid well and wasn't part of a mob, it was good for her business so she didn't mind working with Mandalorians.

"We never took the time to become that intimate if that's what you mean. You humans all look the same to me."

The man munched on warra nuts and stared idly towards the entrance. "Harsh, coming from a Mon Cal."

"I'm an old, bitter girl. But I know a good business opportunity when I see one. Your _people_ seem to respect that as well so I'm willing to help with whatever you need during your stay."

He smiled and raised a bottle of ale to his lips. "And we'll gratefully reward you with the adequate currency."

The female who hadn't spoken yet impatiently drummed her fingers on the table. "We don't know for how long we'll be staying so that might be a problem for you."

"If better deals show up for me then you'll just get another guide," Eevy replied with her counseling voice. "It's a big city."

"Speaking of that, when can you show us to the lodging place?"

"Right now. I'm just waiting for your mate to finish eating his snack."

She playfully nudged her partner to the elbow and smiled to him suggestively.

"Let's go, _mate_."

It was rush hour when they hopped on the speeder and flew towards the coast where usually the richer inhabitants of the Middle City lived and worked. That was silly, Eevy thought. Because if she wanted security to protect her wealth she wouldn't buy an apartment that faced the winds and crashing waves of the oceans. But it was far enough from the Under City and the thieves of the low class districts. The one apartment Eevy found was in an old skyscraper building that got partially destroyed and its reconstruction came to a halt hundreds of years ago due to a budget cut. Now not even the elevators worked, thankfully for her legs they only needed to climb down three flights of stairs after landing on the roof of ruins.

"So this whole place is deserted?" said the man - she didn't feel like knowing his name yet - while chewing more warra nuts that he kept in a pocket.

"Only the higher floors as it's impossible to access them but there are a few families settled below. They keep to themselves."

They got to the third floor and Eevy grabbed a flashlight from her pack and lead the two visitors down a dark hallway. There was still a lot of dust and rubble left that nobody had cared enough to clean up.

"I only have one key card so don't lose it unless you get another door lock." Or if they blew it up. She hurriedly let them in and gave the key to the female and stood at the door while they inspected the room.

"Why do I get the feeling that you used to live here yourself," she inquired.

Eevy meddled with her thoughts for a moment. "It's a decent enough shelter for a few weeks' stay."

"Thank you," she nodded and extended her arm to shake hands but Eevy didn't join her. "I'm Runa and that's Bardan."

"Eevy," she eventually clasped hands with her, and the human didn't show reactions to her webbed, clawed, unsymmetrical fingers.

They heard the man's voice from somewhere inside the apartment. "_Oya!_ We have a kitchen."

"I'll be on my way now. There's an airspeeder I have to recondition."

On her way back towards the spaceport she decided to take a longer route through the center plaza with its markets and entertainment for tourists. It was the midday rush but she didn't mind the slow skylanes and switched the local music broadcast on. As she bobbed her head to the beat she caught something shiny in the far right corner of her field of vision and she had to stop the T24 and turn around in her seat to look at it.

A humanoid figure in all white, brand new armor. He was joined by another in identical uniform and she watched them walk casually on the sidewalks, carrying black blaster rifles. Tarisian passerby's threw suspicious looks at them while walking away but the troopers seemed to ignore the locals. A series of honks and sirens pulled her out of her observation and she flew off looking more carefully to her sides and on the grounds below.

Eevy knew about the Empire alright, she just didn't expect them this far off from Coruscant so soon. And so if the Imperial Army was deployed on Taris what good would they bring to the already broken place and what could they collect besides maybe adding more taxes to the middle class workers? It was a question she'd have to ponder about later on. For now this was a factor she had to include in her security protocols. She took her airspeeder around the plaza and back to the docks.

At her not-so-surprised bafflement she was stopped at the entrance by an imperial soldier. That checkpoint wasn't there when she arrived, or maybe they didn't care for planetary arrivals, still she was a bit revolted.

"Good day, sir. May I see your identification please."

She cringed and pulled one of the cards from her jacket pocket, the one that claimed legal consultant as her profession.

"Oh, sorry _ma'am_. What is your destination?"

"I'm not going anywhere I just need to get something from my ship."

He paused to stare at something across the barrier. "Just one moment." He raised a black gloved hand at someone and hooked a finger to call them. "Apologies, ma'am, but we're going to have to escort you. A regular procedure."

She repressed a sigh and followed his instructions to park her airspeeder in a temporary vehicle lot. Discretely, taking her jacket off she disposed of her blaster pistol under the passenger's seat. When she got out she saw that the trooper had a colleague over to help.

"This is going to be a waste of time for you but, whatever." She headed on and they trailed her closely. She checked with her peripheral vision that none of them were aiming their blasters at her, or she would throw a fit. "Hangar Beta-Three-Two."

"Got it," the first one mechanically said.

It was a long walk on the tarmac but eventually they got to her freighter and she stopped before letting the hatch open.

"You can ask me now, what is a Mon Cal doing so far from home--"

"I think we're just about to find out," he interrupted.

Eevy blinked a few times with anxiety and pressed the key code in. It didn't matter if they saw her doing it since she could always reset it afterwards.

They followed her and the first trooper turned towards his comrade and lifted two fingers to his eyes and gestured in direction of the ship. Eevy knew they never realized that she could see them in her back and she concluded that the other trooper was a rookie.

They inspected the cargo hold, opened everything that could be opened and found nothing of interest. They didn't even mind the other T24 in full sight. The rookie peered inside but his instructor called him back. They proceeded to the cabins that were empty then her quarters and she controlled her behavior to make everything seem normal. On the other hand who could remain calm during a search?

Her heart jumped when the rookie picked up the flight journal from her desk.

"Leave that," said the other one.

"But Sarge--"

"Not our job." He turned towards Eevy. "So apparently you sell legal counseling… What kind of lawyer needs a Barloz-class freighter for that?"

"This is not a freighter," she calmly replied. "It's my _home_."

He took a last look around and stopped a second longer at a Mon Calamari painting on her bedroom wall.

"My apologies then," he purred. He was a head well taller than her and she could smell his caf-scented breath threw his mask filters. "We're centering our investigation around large ships that may harbor fugitives."

"Oh, so that's what this is about."

"Relieved?"

"Not until you find who you're looking for."

She smiled to herself and she knew that was the reply he was expecting.

"Then I'm sure we can count on your cooperation in the future."

Eevy thought about something witty to say but sounding too relaxed was probably a mistake. She decided to nod in compliance and went to her closet to take spare clothing and got out in the passageway with a larger pack but didn't feel like explaining why.

"Where are you staying, ma'am?" the trooper asked while they escorted her back to her vehicle.

Eevy never really gave a second thought about how the Republic-to-Empire switch affected the soldiers and she assumed they just obeyed a different set of orders. They were clones, she knew that, but there was something drastically different about these two and she never remembered any clone troopers _showing_ that much personality. This one in particular seemed _concerned_.

"At a hotel," she answered without lying. "May I ask a personal question, soldier?"

"I'll reply if I can."

"How old are you?"

There was a short silence. "Twenty-three, ma'am."

"Is that old for a human?"

She knew just enough to deduce that he was too young to be a first generation clone, and too old to come from a post-Empire batch, in terms of accelerated aging. That said, his investigating skills hinted to one possibility. He was ex-police.

"I've been around," he said thoughtfully.

They arrived at the parking lot where her airspeeder was left and she realized she'd forgotten to lock it.

"Thanks for your time," the sergeant said. "Have a nice stay."

"Alright, thank you."

She climbed in the speeder and watched him returning to his post at the checkpoint. Eevy felt mildly unnerved about the delay and tried to shoo her worries away for a moment. The sergeant was an ordinary man in a regulation armor that served as a uniform meant to induce terror to those whose conscience wasn't clean - but he was still a boy. She was used to braving authority since childhood, when her family had already planned her future as the daughter of renown artists; she joined the fleet and eventually deserted to become an outlaw. She was young then, but now she was reaching an age when risks weren't affordable. If she could maintain a contract for as long as she could then her retirement was just a few years ahead.

But now Taris was under Imperial control and what stood between her and her ship was an earnest military-converted detective agent ready to cuff her up at the first slip. She drove off the checkpoint and waved at him, more nervously than she intended and he waved back, tilting his head down to look at her through the window panes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Imperial Outpost, Mandalore. Day 2, 0558.**

He woke up two minutes sooner than the morning alarm, as he did the day before, and grabbed the datapad beside his cot. There were no messages received as he expected but he still got all worked up each time he checked. The comlink shut down with a soft bleep.

"Again with that thing, Ori. It's the third day, she won't send you _anything_."

He let his face crash in his pillow and wanted to pretend he hadn't heard his friend complaining.

"Leave-me-alone," he mumbled sleepily.

"She-doesn't-like-you!" Tanas yelled back, which woke up the rest of them in the dormitory.

"Do you know what two minutes of sleep deprivation transfers into?"It was Ven, their squad leader. He sat up on his bunk with a grumpy face.

"Let me guess," Ori replied. "You, all confused and kissing someone's rifle on the muzzle."

"And you talking like a Separatist," continued Tanas, "getting a crush on a merc that wears a _helmet_."

Ori jumped to the floor with a loud thud and the wake up call started. "Better that than staring at the three of you all day, and getting ideas."

He headed on to the showers before it got crowded. It was all makeshift, cheap and inclined to collapse at the first ballistic nudge which had almost happened. The Imperial outpost had been attacked by a bunch of local thugs and now it was repression time.

Once he got into his grey fatigues he joined his squad in the mess hall for a quick breakfast. It was a cramped place that Navy, Army, Command, and Storm had to share at the same time. It was a wonder how the cooking droids always had enough supplies to feed a number of two hundred or so personnel - although, if he heard correctly a fraction of that got slotted the other day. Thankfully he was patrolling the southern hemisphere that day, in the tropical Mandalore climate. Here it snowed and it was windy, and it got to people's morale somehow. On his way to the mess he walked by rubble and damaged durasteel next to a contained zone that troopers in grey battle uniforms were cleaning up. Now they all had to use a single elevator, the only one not blown up after the attack.

"I can't wait to transfer out of here," Tanas grumbled as they went up the stairs.

The table they managed to get was right next to the officer's and a lieutenant in his green fatigues glared at him. Ori tried to pay no mind to it but caught himself looking back, thinking he'd known. Tanas was a blabbermouth so possibly half the station knew about him giving out a private link to a local, something reserved for family alone.

"Maybe they were part of the assault team," he said. "How could they have gotten on site that quickly otherwise?"

"You think too much," said Ven biting his breakfast biscuit. "That's what Command does, we only squeeze the trigger."

"I don't think it was them," Ori muttered between his teeth. "Why didn't they kill us off then?"

They all fell silent at the question and Ori counted the seconds, then minutes. It was all wrong and he knew he'd stepped into a deep puddle of _poodoo_. If that private link got opened, it would be his duty to report it and let the chain of command deal with the suspect.

A suspect he'd want to "interrogate" himself first, he thought. Granted he never got to see her face or know her name but he had wrapped his mind around the idea of seeing her again. Even if she had to die soon after. Then a spoon scooped the remains of the protein pudding from his food tray and his grim thoughts kept him from protesting against Gil.

"I don't know about you lot but the sooner we're off this scum planet the better." Tanas sank his cup of water down and pointed at Ori with his knife. "But I'll gladly leave you in the middle of _kriffing_ Keldabe to search for your warrior princess."

"I'm forever grateful."

"She seemed nice," said Gil after a silence. "She thought I was funny."

Ori repressed a smile and cleaned his tray. They needed to be in the Storm mission briefing room in ten and he needed to get kitted up fast before his squad mates or they'd be sharing armor parts from getting messed up. He hated that small room, this ruined outpost, and this barren planet. Big buildings and infinities skylanes were part of his native environment and each day spent in the countryside made him more restless and bored.

While looking at the holo-briefing and listening to their commander he got an answer to his prayers: he saw an approximate map of Keldabe with patrol positions.

"This week's disaster proved that the indigenous population hold us in no form of respect whatsoever. Our role here is to enforce Imperial domination over the locals and the attack against us voids the understanding with Fenn Shysa. You will be dispatched around the capital city to interrogate and/or arrest any individuals that fit the dissident profile."

They all looked at each other across the room, all squads together. All of them sharing the same gut feeling of no-way-I'm-not-doing-that. Ori felt like clearing his throat and raising a hand to suggest a better plan but it wasn't his place to question orders. He'd know better.

The ride to Keldabe in the transporter was deadly silent and he sighed loudly to break the tension.

"We should roll ourselves in the mud before showing up."

His squad sat motionless at the exception of Tanas who slowly shook his head.

"We're far too _shiny_."

"And instead you want to cover yourself in dung for a laugh, _brilliant_."

Ori recalled his desert patrol exercises where sand and dirt stuck to his white plasteel plates on their own rendering his armor naturally camouflaged. Now the prospects of making do with mud to look a little less conspicuous in urban terrain seemed like the logical way to go… but it would beat the purpose of making a hard impression on the inhabitants.

They got dropped off at the Imperial Recruiting Center where they reported to the captain in charge. He seemed weary from idleness until he saw all four of them in his lobby. Having familiar "faces" around must've been a rare sight for him lately and he briefed them deeper into detail.

They got dispatched in groups of two, unlike what their squad commander had instructed - to go in big numbers as a mean for protection and intimidation - but the recruiting officer decided that some humility was of the essence. Whatever, Ori thought. He wasn't ready to try and instigate fear into people who probably laughed at him behind their black T-visors.

He decided to go with Ven and apply the bounty hunter's advise about, he remembered, _looking out for the lone wolf_. Ori didn't exactly like the man in green armor for completely destroying what faith he had in his squad and the Imperial ways of giving out assignments. After a few nights of wondering about his dream-girl in white and purple armor he had bred a cold rivalry against the faceless man with his patronizing tone.

While walking down the dirt paths of Keldabe he scanned the various sets of Mandalorian armors to find the ones of the bounty hunters. There was some red, brown, many shades of green, black, blue… After a while he forgot what he was looking for and got distracted by something shiny at a market vendor. _Thud_. He almost fell back as a big mass of black armor bumped into him.

"Watch it, _di'kut_."

Ori was going to say "sorry" then remembered his training and by reflex brought his gun up to the man who had called him an idiot. Oh yes, he'd picked up a few words of _mando'a_ after three months, especially the cussing and insults.

"Sorry, what did you say?" he hissed, "I didn't quite catch that, _chakaar_."

The man in black armor mockingly raised his hands and chuckled. Ori felt so alien in his shiny white plasteel plates, with his mere E-11 blaster rifle and his middle-class Coruscanti accent. But he wasn't ready to be stepped on.

"Woah, okay settle down, boy. I was… talking to someone else."

Ori lifted the muzzle of his gun away from the Mandalorian in a controlled motion and nodded. Ven who was standing aside bobbed his helmet in front of him to acknowledge passerby's that stopped to watch the altercation.

"Move along," Ori said as he holstered his rifle.

In other planets you could walk around carrying your weapon like in a march but here that was an open invitation to target practice. Now that his hands were free he could casually fold his arms or stick his thumbs in his belt as if he was off duty. But he'd rather be able to sit at a diner and get a fresh ale without being insulted. Maybe he should have arrested the man when he'd had the chance. He was probably going to regret it.

"You aren't very chatty, Ven."

"Do you see people chatting? I mean listen, this place is quiet as a graveyard."

Ori noticed that before, the locals were all Mandalorian: they wore helmets with soundproofing and they spoke in their private channels.

"How is that keeping you from talking?"

"Because I'm paying attention. You should try that some time."

"The guy came right at me."

"I'm not talking about that. Ori, I know you're looking out for your lady in white. Please stop."

He sighed. "Odds are that she went after the fugitives and I won't see her before a long time, or when she'll be back to collect her bounty."

"You mean _them_. She and that green-armored guy were obviously an item."

"Okay, don't say that word. _Item_."

They heard voices that weren't from their comlink but real sounds from outside; tiny, squeaky voices of little Mandalorian children that ran straight towards them. Ori recognized a young Zabrak among the three.

"Thunder soldiers!" said a little girl with freckles on her nose.

"No they're Stormtroopers you dummy," corrected a boy.

They started knocking on their leg plates. "Is this even laser proof?" giggled the Zabrak.

Ori felt like growling scary things about the reality of laser wounds so they could show some respect for his risky career choice. He got a little edgy when they tried to pick up his blaster.

"Hey! Don't touch that, it's dangerous."

"What! I shot a Trando conc rifle before," protested the little girl with her hands on her hips.

"_Shab_."

"Watch yourself, TK-Zero-Two-Four. You're starting to sound like them." Ven always used designations when he was nervous. "So what should we do?"

"You tell me, Squad Leader. Got any sweets to throw at them?"

"I bet you never shot a conc rifle in your life!" chuckled the little boy. He was wearing a black jumpsuit that made him look disturbingly threatening. "You're just a frontline trooper."

"That's it," sighed Ori, losing his temper. He pointed a finger at the kids and summoned his most menacing tone. "I want to see your parents, or foster family and whatnot. _Now_."

"Oh you're so gonna regret it!"

The boy fled back inside a shop and the other two laughed whole-heartedly at Ori and Ven, and they just waited.

"I have a bad feeling about this."

"Ven, whatever happens from now I want you to know that I forgive you."

"_Forgive_ me?!"

Ori mentally rehearsed a speech about education, he was even ready to mention his own childhood in the lower levels of Coruscant and his parents looking out for what kind of crowd he hung out with. He felt a hand on his shoulder and spun around to meet the shape of a fist, then his face smashed into the inside of his helmet and he heard giggles. He felt himself fall down flat on his back in a loud splat because of the muddy ground. He heard a blaster shot and another splat before losing consciousness.

"No, _cyar'ika_, we can't keep them here. They're trouble."

"But-but-but… Okay."

Someone shook him out of his slumber and Ori opened his eyes noticing his helmet was taken off and his hands were tied in his back. He was sat on the floor in some sort of house and Ven was in front of him, laying down like he was sleeping. He looked up to see a man in grey and red Mandalorian armor, and he had the dark-skinned face of a clone trooper.

"Ah good, you're awake. Sorry about your friend there, I guess he put up too much of a fight."

Ori processed the news and nudged Ven with his boot but got no response. He knew what that meant of course but he only let his mind believe that his comrade was too deeply asleep to wake up. He'd deal with it later.

"You're making a mistake by keeping me in custody, your people will suffer consequences."

The clone in _mando_ armor pulled a chair to sit in front of him and crossed his legs in a casual demeanor. Ori began to fidget with his cuffs which seemed to be made of durasteel wiring.

"You're free to go," said the man. "But my neighbors are concerned for their children so they asked me to make sure you won't try to kidnap them."

"What? I never--"

"Yeah, that's what I said! You shiny whiteys would _never_ take our young for slavery… funny idea, that."

Ori searched for clues around the room that would give him an idea of the time it was. Past his report schedule his captain would dispatch a search team after him and Ven, he _hoped_.

"I understand this is payback for one of yours that got captured."

"Oh, you lot have paid alright. I was there. The bangs and the kabooms, that was all me."

Ah, so he was the explosives specialist. Ori took a long look at his captor.

"Good job," he said, sarcastic. "You should've destroyed the entire base to the ground, then I would be on leave, enjoying a drink back on Triple Zero."

The clone lifted an eyebrow in puzzlement. "You lived there?"

Ori thought he had spoken too much but at this point he couldn't be bothered anymore. "So you thought all Stormtroopers were grown in cloning facilities? Funny idea, that."

"That only tells me that you _chose_ to serve the Empire. Now I'm no psych expert but that's pretty _aruetyc._"

Someone entered the room behind the clone and Ori saw a sandy-haired female wearing armor who folded her arms across her breastplate. He looked at her long enough to seem deranged.

"He's never seen a female before," laughed the clone.

"I have," retorted Ori. "About your size, white and purple trim armor with a KX series rifle. Do you know her?"

They both shared an alarmed look and Ori felt like his heart was going to stop. At last, someone was going to tell him her name. Now if only they'd be nice enough to ease his mind…

"Yes, we know her," answered the woman in a cold tone. "She's the one that got captured and tortured last week."

"No… That can't be." Ori processed the information with high skepticism because he didn't remember seeing an injured or weak person that day. "She was with a man in green armor, they were bounty hunters."

They both smiled holding back laughter as he stared at them in genuine amazement. They _knew_ where she was but somehow he had it all wrong. Being ridiculed was the least of his problems though.

"_Ner vod_, you have a lot to learn," said the clone. "If you're willing to stick around, I'll cut you loose but don't be a _di'kut_ or I'm gonna shoot you."

A vibroblade snapped out of his right gauntlet and Ori could stretch his arms and get up.

"Now help me burry your friend outside. And believe me I really, really don't like it. I was going to grow crops around here."

There was only a given number of choices to begin with, Ori thought, and they got fewer with each turn of event. Three days ago he could have decided to subvert the "bounty hunters", turn them in and complete his assignment - and maybe get a promotion. Instead he had gone with his guts and sabotaged his own career.

Now he was carrying the body of his squad mate of years of exercises and missions across several systems. They stripped him of his armor but he kept his tag plate. The clone _mando _helped him digging the hole in the frozen ground without any shots about him being a coward or a fool, because Ori certainly felt like one.


	3. Chapter 3

**Middle City Coast District, Taris. Day 3.**

There had been fire, lots of it. Bardan knew because he could smell the ashes and the things that burnt beyond recognition once.

He could hear and see the glass of all the windows breaking in the same second from a shockwave, sharp pieces tearing through flesh. Then a shrieking wind of flames that swept across the cityscape.

But that was just the beginning of his torment, the worst was that he had to hear the agonizing screams of the people that survived the first wave of explosions. If he was lucky, one voice would be loud enough, close enough to actually cry right next to his ears so that he could wake up.

It felt like falling off a roof top then landing on the mattress without a hit, just parting his eyelids to see daylight, and hearing the rain that drummed against the transparisteel window panes. The room around him was clean and bright, the furniture fairly new and the rug was soft to the touch when he reached to it. There were no ashes left. Bardan turned around and met Runa sleeping peacefully, totally unaware of what he had just been through.

He shut his eyes in order to resume sleeping, and the falling sensation came back. The darkness of a past night returned when thousands of flames were crawling on the ceiling and he felt a distinct presence right where he was lying. He heard nothing for a moment, only his own pulse beating within his ear canal, and worst of it all he could not move. This was a typical nightmare situation that he couldn't wake from but even knowing that he was dreaming didn't help. The presence right beside him reeked of fear, anger and sorrow. He heard its fast, heavy breathing and he started to panic. They said that immolation was the slowest, most painful way to die.

All he could do was to turn his head around and find out what, or who it was.

_You can do it. Just do it, and it'll be over._ And so he did.

The shape was dark, undefined, not really there but still _there_. It had no traits or attributes he could focus on, but it "stood" over him and _stared_. He was too stunned to think of doing anything, he didn't want to blink from fear that it would do something he wasn't prepare for. Bardan just knew… This wasn't a vision from the past.

He heard a sound from across the apartment and looked to the door. A fraction of a second later the dark shaped had disappeared.

Then brightness gradually came back inside the room, and he heard the rain falling again as if it was all just a dream. A dream he just had with his eyes open.

He sighed and tried to relax, curling himself up against Runa and feeling her bare skin against his face but he couldn't shake the thought that he was being watched. He wanted her to wake up and comfort him with her voice. Another part of him wanted to spare her being troubled over things they couldn't change anyway.

Runa shivered slightly and pulled the blanket up to her neck, she turned her head to him. "You look like crap... How much did you sleep?"

"Not much."

"Didn't do that hibernation thingy," she said slowly, then ran her fingers in his hair. "What's on your mind?"

Now that he felt better he turned around and saw only the door to the refreshers, no blurry black cloud. Snuggling under the sheets he breathed in her musky scent and laid his head on her breast, letting her heartbeat soothe his mind.

"We can't stay here," he whispered. Somehow he didn't want to be heard by anyone else. "This place is… in lots of pain."

He waited for her to take the news in. "I know a Mon Calamari who won't be happy about it," she cynically replied. "Tell me what you saw."

"Later." Her skin was soft as silk under his palm and he slid his hand from her belly and over to the last rows of her rib cage, feeling an uneven dent to her left side. "I don't want to think about it right now. Does it still hurt?"

"A little," she breathed. "I got used to it."

She shifted under him and pulled herself out of bed; her nude form moved across the room careless of who or what was watching. Her face was spotless now but Bardan counted the bruises that she wouldn't allow him to heal, explaining that she could conceal them and it wasn't worth him wasting his energy, something he had partially agreed on.

He heard the water running in the refreshers and she came back to whisper in his ear, her breath in his neck making him shiver as he recalled something else that stalked him in the same manner.

"It's a large bath tub," she said and she squeezed his bicep. "And it's _clean_."

Within the past several days he hadn't ceased to be amazed in how many ways she was able to lift his moods and generally take his thoughts away from his own person. Barely a week ago they were strangers, because she was a dreamer and Bardan couldn't explain how she could get along with the pragmatist that he was.

"Are you gonna get up," she continued, "or do I have to scrub my own back?"

It was unchaste and lustful but it got him out of a gruesome reverie until the next time he had to be alone in that room. The rest of the apartment didn't give him that much of the creeps though he'd still want to be as far away from it as possible.

It rained a lot that day, even as daylight faded it still poured when he was standing outside by the piers in a set of civvie clothes. He had this black leather jacket that looked much like Kal's and he wore it to look mundane in any second grade slum. Bardan just waited and looked towards the skylanes that stopped on the walking paths; there were some pedestrians outside, mostly human, dressed in working uniforms and raincoats. Nobody paid attention to him or Runa and he felt intruding by staring at them.

She combed her short brown hair with her hand and shook the water off it. "In times like these I'm glad I'm not a Wookie."

"It could be worse. At least it's not Jabiim."

"You were on Jabiim?"

Raindrops fell inside his collar and he braced his shoulders, shivering slightly. "Nasty, wet, muddy place. Lots of Separatists, too."

"Ramble on, old man." She finally got up to the droid and placed her order. The smells of greasy nerf steak and fried veg made him drool in expectation, Runa picked something from the flimsi pack as they walked on. "My backwater country girl likes you better when you act your age."

"So you really don't want to know what got me busy for three years."

She threw a look over her shoulder. "I'll find out eventually."

"You're very trusting for a _mando_."

Gleaming with joy at what he told her she nodded her chin towards the pier. He followed her gaze to see silhouettes of marching men under the rain, and they wore the distinctive Imperial gray battle drab uniform with black helmets and visors.

"The infantry," he thought out loud.

"Does it look like they're coming our way or is it some kind of optics effect…"

"They're coming this way."

Bardan counted six of them which was not even enough for a small platoon and he stood on the sidewalk with Runa who ate another fried protato - protein enhanced root veg - as if watching a celebration march. They were all men in their early twenties, as he could see from their lower faces that weren't hidden by the black visors, with unmatched skin tones and traits. Bardan couldn't recognize ranks but he guessed that their sergeant wore the same uniform.

They watched the troopers walk down the road and turning at the curb before heading back to their speeder.

"I'm getting tired of thinking 'that was close', isn't there anything we can do like pay them off?"

The T24 was a small airspeeder and he felt cramped up inside with his humid clothes and the smell of food invaded the cabin. Finding the air conditioning control he turned it on to dry off.

"They're not politicians or thugs," he replied, "but mostly military with a strong belief in the Imperial order."

"Yeah," she agreed. "I visited their indoctrinating program."

He looked at her. "Yes, you did."

"It was… _compelling_. As a young adult looking for strong values and a big family to belong to I can understand how someone would adhere to them."

"Runa…"

She shot him a painful look as if she was going to lose her temper. "I'm not blaming you or anybody for Devik. He knew what he was going up against and he decided to go his own way."

"Like I said," continued Bardan with a reasoning voice, "I would've gone myself. That mission was far too dangerous for you."

He ignited the propulsion engines and took the speeder in the air. Not wishing to go back to the apartment just yet he maneuvered the vehicle around until he found a lane down below, under the bridges and into darker alleys and paths that looked a lot like the lower levels in Coruscant. And the more he looked down, the harder it was to turn away from it. A voiceless call allured him from down there, in the darkness.

"I think I just saw a panhandling droid," said Runa. "Where exactly are you taking us?"

Bardan dodged a swoop bike that bolted a little too close to his hull from the opposite lane. Runa gasped and grabbed onto her seat.

"I'm sensing something around here."

"And by that I hope you mean loot, riches, or a puppy. Otherwise, slow down."

It was unnerving and it just wasn't like him to change course on a whim but he needed to call out to his senses and focus on the light he had seen before. Closing his eyes he visualized the life signature through the Force and it responded like an echo. The rest of his surroundings were turned into translucent shapes and orbs of faint colors.

"I hate it when you do that," groaned Runa. "Hand over the controls."

Opening his eyes again when he had a lock on his target he took the clumsy T24 into a deep canyon of old streets, between weathered constructions that no longer served any purpose other than basements for higher buildings.

"It's around here," he said then landed the airspeeder in an alley and switched the headlights off. They weren't in the Under City yet so that wasn't the planet's ground level. "And I think it's not moving."

"Hostile?"

He thoughtfully shook his head. The presence felt similar to him as a distress beacon with no signature, it was impersonal and even when coming close there was nothing changing about it.

Runa handed the flimsi food pack to him in an offering gesture while addressing him a puzzled look.

"I'm just weighing our liability here," he explained and ate a fry. "If we head out there I'll want to know what I'm up against."

"So is it a Force thing that calls to you when someone's in danger?"

He opened his mouth to start explaining how it worked but stopped mid-thought at the realization that she might not understand and would grow apart from him.

"It's… freaky mystical stuff."

"That doesn't answer my question."

He squinted back at her. "Alright. It's like that tingly feeling of knowing you're not alone somewhere, on a larger scale. Only difference is that I can _see_ it in energy waves… does it make sense so far?"

"I remember the feeling but it's more imagination than real perception in my case."

"It's real most of the time," he informed.

"Okay, then… closet-monsters are real?"

"I warned you." He looked through all the window panes but saw nothing more than ruins and trash in the dark. If nothing was going to show up or change in the Force presence he'd have to leave without answers. "How can there be absolutely nothing going on here…"

She joined him in staring at the darkness around them, her breathing started to increase in speed. "We can't be all alone, I heard there are swoop thugs everywhere ready to dismantle any stopping vehicle."

Bardan looked at his coat on the backseat and checked his belongings failing to find his rifle, lightsaber or datapad. Going out there with only the small blaster in his boot was ridiculous.

"Damn it. Sorry for bringing us here, with no weapons, no map…"

"Isn't there anything you can do? You can talk to people through the Force, can't you?"

The "beacon" was still emitting but he didn't dare reach out to it, only did he stand and stare from afar. Bardan knew that whatever was calling it was able to listen as well.

"It won't show itself," he quietly replied, "so I won't either."

"Maybe they're expecting you."

"They?"

She pointed at five o'clock towards the shape of a moving person in the field of garbage and discarded vehicle chassis. It walked in direction of the underground gallery complex north of them and stopped as Bardan laid his eyes on it.

"Looks like a little girl," Runa wondered. "Bardan, wait!"

He put his jacket on and showed his palm to the young person, intending no harm. Much unlike his wishes it ran away in the other direction to hide in a tunnel, a sewage tube.

"Nice approach." Runa walked passed him and began following the stray.

Bardan let her take the lead and kept at a safe distance. She got to a crouch near the opening and called out into the permacrete tunnel.

"Hey there, little girl. We're not gonna hurt you, you can come out."

No reply, but soon he could see the small-sized tunic of what used to be robes. Filthy, ragged, regulation brown robes.

"A padawan," he stated. "Great."

Runa did a good job at ignoring his remark. "What's your name, sweetie?"

The girl, now obviously a human with dark skin and long, scruffy black hair, stood up with whatever dignity she had and looked straight at him. "What _are_ you?" she spat.

Bardan, hands buried in his pockets forced a smile. "Answer the lady's question."

He regretted not having his _beskar'gam_ on but either way the print he left in the Force was a cold spot, nothing but void. It was something he had trained himself to do for years and he wasn't going to lay _that_ armor down.

"Aresu Kurn," the girl replied to Runa. "Now leave, this place isn't safe."

Runa looked him sideways with amused confusion. "We'll leave if you come with us, you could use a clean-up and some meat on your bones."

"Come on."

Bardan reached for her arm but retracted immediately and stepped back. It wasn't a day for losing a finger from a teenaged-built lightsaber. And it was _pink_. He gave her his best don't-play-that-game-with-me look.

"Stay away!" she shouted. "I won't let you harm him, you'll have to kill me first."

"Little girl, what are you talking about?"

She was fierce and seemed able to take a leap if that made her life easier.

"She's talking about the beacon," he explained then turned to the padawan. "It's not who you think it is. You'll have to take my word for it."

Her grip on the hilt didn't loosen, she just took a sidestep with her eyes piercing at him across the pink laser blade.

"How can I trust someone who's neither dead nor alive."

The padawan was short, underweight and weak from starvation, he could easily disable her but then what would Runa think…

"Defend yourself!" she yelled and raised her weapon to strike.

"I'll try not to _damage_ you."

The Force was the ultimate power in the universe. A full blow of Force could obliterate a star. Bardan knew that it was all about nuance and delicacy.

Aresu was on the floor in a fraction of a second, deep in unconsciousness. Runa hurried to her and measured her pulse before steadying her head checking for clear airways, as a true medic. Bardan borrowed a second to watch her.

"What did you do?" she sighed with worry.

He got on one knee and lifted the girl in his arms, very short from the ruthless salvage fighter from moments ago.

"We need to get out of here. _Now_."

She came to when he laid her down on the couch in their apartment and Runa was already preparing a change of clothes after she had her cleaned. He wasn't sure if he was comfortable seeing the padawan using the outfits of his _cyar'ika. _

"Explanation time," Runa said as she brought a glass of water and _uj _cake for their guest. "First, the beacon thingy, please."

"It was my master," said Aresu. "He's still alive and he needs me."

Bardan stored her lightsaber in a locked compartment where he also kept his _beskar_. He turned around and grabbed a piece of _uj_ cake before sitting right next to Aresu. He felt her unease and the lingering fear that had kept her alive for a long time without needing to change out of her robes.

"Relax." The cake was sticky, it made him sound more approachable. "Let me find out exactly what happened."

She pulled away but he took her wrist and shut his eyes, placing himself in a semi-trance that allowed him to receive whatever memory was contained in her head. She had basic symptoms of malnutrition, and borderline sociopath disorders after two years spent on her own because her master - a Twi'lek he didn't know - was mugged by swoop gangsters and fell off an aerial bridge. She really had no idea if he was dead or alive.

"Your master wasn't there today," he said, letting her go. "In fact, no one was. Nobody you know, anyway."

Runa watched speechless and just circled the padawan girl with a comforting arm. Bardan went over to the kitchen space to get his datapad and inquired "Aresu Kurn" in his search engine. Her master showed up in the KIA list, and she was MIA. Whoever delivered her alive or dead to the Empire would receive a prize of two thousand credits. Barely worth the trip.

"You're Korunnai. The human subspecies with built-in midichlorian genes."

"And what happened to yours?" she snapped. "Why can't I sense you?"

He recalled what one of his friends told him and it made him smile. "Because I'm special."

"He's using a cloaking technique," Runa interjected. "He can teach you someday."

Bardan nodded, in awe of how much she knew about him already. The pack of food was heating up in the oven and he divided its contents in three plates.

"So if that wasn't my master," slowly spoke Aresu, "what was it?"

"A trap of some kind. If it got me there, it could attract many other Jedi in this system."

The girl got up to stand before him like she wanted another affront. "But you're nothing like us. _What_ are you?"

This time he felt slightly insulted and wished she could just sit down and be afraid of his T-visor, _like everyone else_. But she was being stubborn.

"Tell her, _cyar'ika_."

Runa came up to them and comically landed her hands on the girl's skinny shoulders. "He's a bounty hunter."


	4. Chapter 4

**The Brown Bolt, Middle City, Taris. Day 4**

Eevy picked her seat at the side of the bar that allowed her to watch the door and tried to seem busy with her ordered meal to prevent any bored intruders to come near her. But obviously that was hoping for too much on this planet. She saw a tall man stand beside her with a glass of amber liquid.

"Is this seat taken, ma'am?"

"I recognize that tone."

She focused her left eye on the person that was now sitting on that side of her: hazel-hair, green eyes and a strong jaw bone, quite developed attributes for a young man. The skin on his face and hands was pale.

"Then we share a sense for observation."

She flared her nostrils at the sergeant, now wearing a plain black outfit that showed no sign of faction. He was so bland that staring any longer was a waste of time.

"I didn't know troopers could go undercover."

"They don't," he said quietly before sipping his drink. She was ready to bet that it was iced tea. "But most never know when to take a break."

"Interesting." She pushed her plate aside and turned around to face him. "Does your break involve traveling half a district to get a drink?"

He smiled, completely undisturbed. "I'm knew around here, so I thought I could use you as a guide to find the best places. How is the counseling business going?"

She used her right eye to watch the entrance. It was bright outside despite the sparse rainfall.

"I'm about to meet a client right now."

"Here? I'd expect something more adequate. Like on the Upper City."

"My client likes the shade."

"Interesting."

Heavy footsteps got her attention back at the door and she was caught off guard by a fully-equipped Mandalorian that stood right next to her, his black visor directed towards her new acquaintance. Eevy lost control of her cool and hassled with words.

"Ah! You're here. I was just talking about you to…"

The Imperial extended his hand to Bardan. "Sulen Korrado."

Their masked guest showed no intent to shake hands and just turned to Eevy. "Your assistant?"

"Potential client," Korrado - if that was really his name - replied. "I'm interested in some legal advice as well."

Eevy would have never thought of Bardan as a particularly fearsome individual when she witnessed his careless demeanor a few days ago. Something must have happened. He stared the man down and extended his own hand.

"Gotab," he said. "What do you do, mister Korrado?"

"What do I do?"

"Yes." Bardan rested an elbow on the bar to lean forward. "What is your area of expertise?"

"Imports," he said after a pause. "Especially the running kind."

So he was able to deal with Mandalorians, Eevy thought. Most people just went nervous and ran away.

"Let's take a walk," Bardan hissed as he turned around. "It was a _pleasure_, mister Korrado."

Eevy followed him out on the streets and found it hard to keep up with him until they arrived at a square. She could feel his irritation.

"He trailed me from the spaceport."

"That was a cop. Ex-CSF, to be precise." He looked around them, scanning the entire area. "We need to relocate."

Eevy had the impression to be arguing with a non-human that acted more alien than she was. "There are Imperials everywhere now, you can't ask me to find anywhere safer than here. The Lower City is a dump--"

"Things got complicated." They went to a public bench in the square garden and sat casually while talking. "How much implication do you have with that Korrado?"

"He watches over my ship. I help him find fugitives in return." She avoided his stare. "That came out wrong, didn't it?"

"You do what you have to do, Eevy," sighed the man under the helmet. "I trust Kal's judgment and how he deals with people."

They watched a patrol of two soldiers in grey uniform with black helmets and boots passing in front of them without either looking around.

"But if you cross me," added Bardan quietly, "even _accidentally_…"

"None of that will happen," she snapped. "What kind of trouble are you in?"

He leaned against the seat. "The juvenile kind. We found a stray in the lower level, a Force sensitive, she might be of some use to us."

"Is that why your female partner isn't here?"

He nodded.

She watched the troopers walk away in the distance. "I fear that you've put yourself in your own misery. These Imperials aren't here for occupation, they're obviously waiting for something bound to happen soon."

He checked his chrono and she wondered what was going on under that helmet. The more she interacted with masked people the more she felt the importance of facial expressions.

"Is there anything I should know?" she asked.

"As much as I'd like you to be in the loop, I'm afraid not."

Eevy rolled her eyes with irritation; that game of deception he was playing wasn't new to her and even if she understood the stakes there were things that she needed to know in order to take extra caution in her next moves.

"There isn't much I can hold under the radar now," he continued as if answering a silent question, "so you need to shake that detective off your tail."

"I understand. And he's not on an official assignment, I first saw him doing checkpoints in a Stormtrooper suit."

"He must be really bored. Or ambitious." Bardan got up and casually stretched his arms. "Thanks for letting me know, I'll keep an eye out."

She watched him leave without a wave or acknowledgement, and she stayed a few minutes longer before walking away.

Korrado was surely gone now, on his way to take notes of what he heard and saw. Eevy cursed herself for acting so friendly with the trooper in the first place, while she had known that it would lead to potential trouble it had seemed like the right call at the time. And Bardan had told her about a Force sensitive subject, a _Jedi_. That translated into things of a much larger proportion than she had expected. Was he a bounty hunter waiting to collect a prize for turning the fugitive in before letting the authorities know?

If that was the case, she wouldn't need to be here very much longer. And in that perspective she would have to negotiate a cut of that hypothetical bounty. But if he had told a lie to see what she would do about it then he could wait.

Eevy took the habit to look over her shoulder every two minutes while flying to her hotel, mindful of any human in green armor or black outfits. She had every reason to feel paranoid with Imperials, Mandalorians and now Jedi in her entourage.

Sliding the key card into the lock panel she sighed and entered her room, ready to lie down and nap for an hour. As she closed the door behind her there was the whistling sound of a charging power cell and the click of a safety switch. She felt cold metal on the back of her head.

"How was that meeting, _Eevy Tolod_?"

Two Stormtroopers came out of the lobby beside Korrado who held her at gunpoint. She cussed in thought of the careless mistakes she may have done, possibly leaving financial tracks. How could anyone not be able to track down a Mon Cal around here?

"You have no right to threaten me," she said, still wearing her legal counselor hat.

"I beg to differ, ma'am. But the moment I saw that you were connected to the likes of a Mandalorian it suddenly came to me that I know of another fish-lady that worked for a certain, let's say… mercenary type."

"You're mistaken."

"And you know Kal Skirata. Now tell me the name of that other client of yours."

"Or else?"

His arm started to lose its strength and he held the gun at chest level. "Or I'm placing you under Imperial arrest," he continued, "for interfering with an investigation."

As he signaled to his colleagues she let the Stormtroopers restrain her. Eevy was terrible at hand-to-hand combat, that was a reason why she preferred flying.

"I liked you better with the helmet on, young man."

And so that was the end of her freedom, she thought to herself. Soon the sergeant found her set of fake identifications, her gun and her cash credits inside her room. While they took her outside to their transport she already grieved for the life that she had worked so hard to put together.

It was a small dimly lit room with just a durasteel table and two chairs. Eevy stared at the door waiting for someone that would probably try to beat answers out of her or cut a deal if she was lucky. She heard voices coming from another room which meant that the walls weren't soundproofed, and by that, this wasn't exactly a security center. Unable to shake the restrains off she drummed her claws on the table the way she had seen the young female do at the _Brown Bolt_. Humans were sensitive to human-like behaviors.

When the door opened and Korrado came in she caught a glimpse of another person that was wearing black and it sent a shiver down her spine. Some people just _smelled_ wrong. She felt relieved that it was Korrado that started the interrogation and she answered his questions without any second thoughts, eager to get out of that place as soon as she could and maybe gain some immunity on the way. If the Mandalorians were as good as their reputation they wouldn't mind. She was a merc after all, and her survival outranked everything else.

"Where am I exactly?" she asked.

"In a temporary satellite camp," Korrado said, shutting his datapad off. "Doesn't look like much but it fills its purpose."

"So once you find Jusik and Zanim I'll be free to go…"

He snorted. "Your cooperation was much appreciated, Eevy. In fact we're going to let you go today if you're ready to lead us to them, in exchange of payment of course."

She took a moment to turn the thought over or make him believe so.

"I'll do it. But I doubt it'll work, if you're right about Jusik being a Jedi then he'll sense me coming from miles away."

"No need to worry about Jusik, we'll center on the woman to begin with and the rest will play itself out."

Eevy took a long inspiration; she had liked the girl Runa because she was young and so clueless about most things in the business. It was a condescending liking and very unlike her to think about her clients in that way.

They left her in the room for the following hours of the day and she got started on her next plan.

**Enceri, Mandalore**

The particularity of being in the army - well, not exactly the Army, he was a Stormtrooper and answered to a different chain of command - was that you were shaped to be like every one of your fellow soldiers. An army of one in the sense that all looked, acted and thought as one. Ori had hassled with the concept for a long time, but not _that_ much.

Now he felt more alien and different than ever on this planet where every warrior here customized his or her armor, acted and thought according to their own beliefs and personalities. Ori had none, or he had never cared enough to give any thought into it. Sitting in a diner among the Mandalorians felt strangely inviting even if he was wearing a disguise that the clone named Fi had fixed up for him.

The dark skinned man with grey and red armor chatted casually with his wife, the woman with braided hair called Parja and that seemed to know a lot about engineering. Ori tried to keep his head down in their booth in case an idle gaze would notice that he wasn't wearing the regulation _beskar_ plates and had no weapons. Fi and Parja hadn't trusted him enough to let him carry his blaster. Besides, the Empire Issued Blastech E-11 was far too noticeable regardless of its weakness or efficiency against the locals' means of defense.

They were joined by another _mando_ wearing a blue set of armor and that revealed himself to be another clone. He was a customization of his own self: bleached streaks of hair and green-colored eye lenses.

"It's nice to see that not all the womprats fled from the sail barge," he said letting himself fall in the barely cushioned seat.

"We know no fear," comically replied Fi. "Let's introduce you to our new asset."

Ori nodded to the new clone - he just couldn't get around to seeing them as their own person yet.

"Mereel," he said. "You got something that might interest us, _ner vod_?"

"TK-Zero-Two-Four, but you can call me Ori. I came across one of your friends one day and she ended up having my private link."

The clone called Mereel raised a dark eyebrow at him. "They let you sympathize with the enemy in the Empire?"

"We get leave time."

He burst out in laughter, slapping the wooden table but none of the other patrons seemed to care. Ori wanted to hide under his seat.

"The military, these days…!"

"Hear him out," said Fi. "He actually wanted Runa to contact him one day."

"Yeah," added Parja. "Looks like someone beat you at the chasing game."

Mereel shook his head in disbelief and brought his attention back at Ori. "Too bad she left the system with Bardan. The little genius has her wrapped all around him if you ask me so there are absolutely no chances for you, trooper boy. None at all. Unless you were a little less ugly and had super powers. It doesn't look good at all for you. Nah, no dice."

Fi was smiling up to his ears but handed him Ori's comlink. "Just tell us what kind of transmissions these work with, we still need to get her brother out of Cannon Fodder School."

The fake-blond clone examined the electronics with the dexterity and ease of a highly qualified expert. Ori thought he'd faint when he cracked the casing open like it was a nut shell.

"Oh yeah, I recognize these."

"Couldn't you have said that before you tore it apart?" complained Ori.

"Settle down, newbie. I got the link chip right here, see? I'll make you a new one, don't you worry."

"It was supposed to be a secure line…"

"Now it will be even more secured, thanks to your new friends."

Parja shook her head with apparent disgust. "I just found him in my living room with a dead _chakaar_, Fi was the one who wanted to keep him."

"So what do you say, _Mer'ika_. We let Runa know that her true love is here waiting?"

He flashed his white teeth with triumph. "I say, let's do this!"

The general idea, if Ori got it straight, was to put his comlink to good use for Runa - he knew her name now - since she wanted to take her brother away from what seemed to be the Imperial Stormtrooper training grounds on planet Carida. Ori perfectly remembered that place, he hated it but missed it at the same time. Things were simple over there: you either survived your training or… Well he didn't wish to have to go again.

But of course, he was never lucky with wishes.

"So how much _osik_ does it take for an Imperial Staff Sergeant to make a private go straight back to training?"

"I guess a lot, just push the kid around, and stop when he pukes."

"How about we do it outside then…"

Fi and Mereel took him out in the woods with a tool box and other things he didn't dare look at too closely. They walked about a mile in the cold, foggy weather outside Keldabe.

"Okay now," Mereel opened his box and shook a canister that made a weird sound. "Take your pants off."

"He means _get naked_," corrected Fi.

If there was an episode of his life that Ori would rather forget, it wouldn't be his first day at the Imperial Academy, or his first date at the Coruscant School Promotion party, and not even the costume his mother made him wear for his fifth birthday.

This was worse.

Screaming, flailing, and generally making an utter fool out of himself he streaked down the muddy roads of the Mandalorian capital. Every T-slit visor that looked at him, every laugh was a sting but he thought of his mission: no stopping when you were running naked with paint sprayed all over you, keep going until it was worth it.

His voice had gone rough in his throat and it became painful to breathe and walk because the mud was icy cold and he couldn't feel most of his extremities. Yes, that was the worst.

He stormed into the Imperial Recruitment Center and even the guarding soldiers and Stormtroopers laughed, moving out of his way because he was too dirty or they didn't want to get any paint on their uniform. Ori couldn't blame them. Oh, how he missed his shiny immaculate armor…

Someone put him out of his misery with a solid strike to the back of the head and he found peace in unconsciousness for the second time.

He was in a medical ward when he woke up. The droid in his room was doing something unrelated to him and didn't even ask what had happened to him.

"Your concussion has instructed me to put you in a lying position," said the emotionless voice of the droid. "We have prescribed a complete tune up to remediate your mental conditions, TK-Zero-Two-Four."

"Great…" he sighed.

He had no belongings in that ward except the datapad that contained his transfer order, which was a standing order, actually. Ori picked it up and proceeded to his old quarters to find his fatigues. At fifteen hundred hours everyone was on duty and he was left with his transfer order, and people didn't acknowledge him at the base. Without the paint and the nakedness he was a nobody. Somehow the idea made him chuckle to himself.

A passing lieutenant in green drab uniform stopped to look at him because of the suspicious sounds he made.

"Private?"

Ori stood to, flat hand across his chest in salute and looked at a precise ninety degree angle. "Sir!"

"What are you doing so far away from your company, trooper?"

"I… was on my way to take my duty leave, sir. It's on these orders, medical reasons due to--"

"Alright, consider yourself on leave then. Dismissed."

"Sir! Thank you, sir."

The young lieutenant waved him off and walked away. Ori smiled to himself feeling like he had planted a bomb in a candy factory and it was raining sweets.

He took one of the old Aratech speeders out for a stroll, wearing his full Storm gear, feeling like a new man. First because he had taken a shower and he could feel all of his limbs again, and also the armor was like a second skin to him. Maybe certain plates pinched him in the wrong spots but they served their purpose.

Reaching Enceri within ten minutes thanks to the hyper power of the Aratech engines, he managed to get up to the same diner as that morning.

"Well, look at you, shiny!" Fi greeted him with the local hand-to-elbow clasp, behind the building where this sort of meeting wouldn't raise any attention.

Mereel walked up to him and patted his shoulder plate. "This suits you better than the worm disguise." He gave him the modified comlink. "Take care of this, Ori. If you succeed in this completely insane task, you might have a tiny chance to win your girl's good favors."

"Well that's way better than _absolutely nothing_."

"The worm," Fi laughed. "Quite the allegory for computer hacking, don't you think? If you can't infiltrate them virtually…"

"Yeah, yeah," interrupted Ori. "I get the idea."

"You sound tired," Mereel said with faked concern. "And you need a tan, shiny whitey. I was there… I've seen everything."

They laughed, and Ori himself couldn't help it either.

"You watch yourself out there, _vod_." Fi said. "I'd hate to have to collect your tallies in Imperial territory."

"I will, and… _vor entye_."

Mereel nodded respectfully and touched two fingers to his helmet as he got back on the speeder bike. It was a long shot, perhaps the greatest risk he was taking in his entire career. Because deciding to become an elite soldier while most of your childhood friends were better off thieving and working at a desk wasn't all that special anymore. Ori had to be somebody now, and it mattered to a few people at least.


	5. Chapter 5

**Coast District, Taris. Day 4**

Since she had started baby-sitting the quiet moments of privacy had become rare so the only place she could find for that were the refreshers with the lockable door. Runa wasn't good with kids, whether she attempted to bond or make food to them it turned out to be a hassle for her. Aresu was cute and rather mature for her age but had some attitude about her that Runa couldn't quite bear. For example she refused to speak about her life as a stray and her excuse was always _you can't understand_…

Runa flushed the water down the pipes and rinsed her hands and face to gain some composure before having to deal with the little rebel again. Maybe she didn't grow up in a temple but at least she was the one with the key card.

"Aresu how about we get some snacks and rent a few holos…"

There was nobody to listen to her talking. Her intuition told her to climb up the stairs and reach the roof. Bardan had been able to unlock a door inside an Imperial base with his mind.

The roof was an identical apartment with blown up walls, the permacrete floors were charred and swept clean. They used it as a docking platform for their speeder. Aresu was sitting on the edge of where there used to be a window, her tangled hair and oversized clothes flowing to the wind. It was getting dark and Runa felt like she got punched to the chest.

"Aresu, get back here now!"

She didn't even turn her head to her. "Why?"

"Because it's dangerous, and I don't want to go all the way down there to pick up what's left of you."

"You don't care if I live or die," the girl muttered. "No one does except my master, but he's dead now."

"Give us a chance, Aresu." Runa heard a distant engine sound. "You're not alone now and we're gonna have to learn to know each other, we'll look out for you."

The girl stood up in her loose pants and shirt to turn around. The T24 arrived in a roar that Runa welcomed with relief. She saw Bardan through the canopy, he had his _buy'ce_ on and she wondered how Aresu would receive that.

She opened her brown eyes wide, mouth gaping and started walking backwards.

"Aresu, stop!"

Bardan got out of the vehicle and walked up to Runa with as much calm as if they were watching a bolo ball holo-transmission.

"Why is she over there?" said the disembodied voice of his helmet speaker.

She sighed helplessly and crossed her arms. "She's going through the motions."

"And learning to fly?"

He almost stole a smile from her. The padawan had her eyes riveted on Bardan, losing a bit of her balance.

"We have to leave," he told her with a little nod. "Get your stuff, we don't have much time."

"I'm not going anywhere with you."

Runa was going to shout a few things she had in mind about teenage angst and how discipline was important when growing up but Bardan stopped on his way down to the apartment and turned a fearsome, T-visor stare towards the little girl.

"Don't make me get you."

"Why should you?" she said defiantly. "I'll just throw myself off the roof if you get any closer."

"Oh, I won't need to do that." Runa saw him switching something on the inside of his right gauntlet. "Say what you want but stay where you are."

"Your Force-stun will knock me off the edge, too."

He casually held his hands together to his belt, tilting his helmet on a side.

"So you want to kill yourself after we've fed you, sheltered you… That's not very grateful."

"It won't matter anymore," she sighed emotionally. "All the Jedi are gone or soon dead. My home planet was destroyed. I have nowhere left to go…"

"…which brings us here, smart girl. I don't think I stressed enough the fact that we _rescued you_. Is it Runa's cooking?"

"Hey!" She playfully slapped his arm.

"Just go away!" Aresu shouted, losing patience. "I never needed anyone to save me so go if you need to leave."

"_Fierfek_," Bardan laughed, turning his visor to Runa. "Sometimes I hate being the good guy."

He aimed his right arm to Aresu, and before Runa could gasp in surprise something hissed through the air and the girl got wrangled in a thin wire. She yelped then screamed with disapproval when she realized that she was trapped. Bardan pulled the cord and she fell forward, clear from the edge but still very mad.

"I told you not to make me get you," he groaned, putting a knee down and carried the angry teenager. "This isn't good for my back."

Runa muted a laugh in her hand and opened the canopy to let him put the immobilized Aresu on the back seat.

"I hate you!" she cried.

"Hate is the path to the dark side," Bardan said with a comical voice and shut her off in the vehicle.

Runa followed him to the apartment thankful that they avoided a major tragedy and felt like a huge weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

"Eevy got compromised," he said quickly. "I saw her talking to an Imp and then I lost contact with her so I'm guessing that she spoke."

"She _did_?"

"Scumbags come in different shape and form, Runa." He picked up his carry-all and started stuffing his spare clothes, accessories and food packs in it. Runa went to grab hers and her suit. "We can't leave the system so we have to go deeper down…"

"The Lower City?"

"Yeah, the creepy part of town. Don't worry, just long enough to sort this beacon thing and plan our next destination."

They went back up to the roof and Runa sat on the backseat next to Aresu to untie her. She had a wet face from lots of tears shed. Her eyes were still very angry though.

"You'll be glad to hear this," Bardan said, seating himself at the controls. "We're going to your old home, with the garbage and the roach family."

She didn't reply. They took off and Runa looked through the panes to see if there was anything happening on the roof while they left, a dreadful uniform or blaster bolts.

Taris by night was difficult to get used to, especially the slums that seemed to come alive with clubs, hotels, relatively legal stores and houses of ill repute.

"I took a different turn," Bardan said after a few minutes. "Recognize anything?"

He was talking to the girl.

"Your silence is heart-warming."

Runa patted his shoulder. "Just find us a place to crash, _Bard'ika_."

"Well, there's a decent-looking hotel here, and a colorful one over there…"

Runa followed his finger to see the red and pink flashes of a very graphic picture and suggestive name for a hotel. He let out a loud _Hm!_ and kept driving until there were a little less luminous signs.

"Take a right," suddenly said Aresu - she was actually paying attention.

"As you wish, milady."

It took them into a labyrinth of dark alleys and ruins. Runa saw a lot of people out on the sidewalks, they all looked homeless and miserable.

"Oh, Aresu… Is this where you lived?"

She wished she had mentioned another spot - getting off the T24 here and risking to see her luggage disappear was something she didn't want to think about.

"Around the corner, go up in that building."

Bardan did as she instructed and got the speeder up on terrace that lead to the back entrance of what seemed to be an old casino. All specific signs were taken down or hidden. There was broken glass on the floor and it generally felt dead when Runa stepped outside.

"Seems quiet," he commented.

Then Aresu jumped off the vehicle and ran her _shebs_ off towards a fire escape ladder. She collided with an invisible wall and fell back, rolling over her head and there was a shriek of electricity. Aresu raised her lightsaber and attacked.

"No!" Runa heard herself scream. She wanted to put herself between her and Bardan but he shoved her aside and stood in front of the padawan.

The purple blade disappeared in his breastplate; Runa thought her heart had stopped and she couldn't breathe. Yet, Bardan was still standing and Aresu watched the hilt of her weapon in complete disarray.

"Why--"

A gloved fist landed in her jaw and she fell unconscious.

"Great, now I have to carry her again."

"Bardan, you just punched a kid. In the face."

"I couldn't _shoot_ her, Runa. She's just a kid!"

"What about a Force-stun thing?"

He picked her up and inspected the girl's face, it wasn't turning red just yet, but then again she had dark skin.

"The bruise will give her something to think about."

"Well, better get her walking again if we want to inspect this place."

He nodded and sat Aresu against the vehicle before removing his helmet and taking a drink from his canteen. After that he sprayed her inanimate face with water and she woke up with a growl.

"Do you remember what happened, princess? Can you tell me why I had to hit you?"

"I just want to be left alone! If you don't like it you can just kill me."

"Sorry," smirked Bardan. "We don't do pity."

He took something from his belt and ignited it. _Her_ lightsaber. He rolled it around like it was a toy. Runa took a step back because she liked having arms, legs and a head.

"Give that back!" Aresu cried and reached out to grab it.

"Tsss… It's mine now," Bardan replied, pushing her away. "You'll get it back when I find a good use for you."

Runa went back in the T24 to change into her suit and armor. "Don't be looking this way, folks. Just a gal getting dressed up for party."

It was really cramped inside the speeder and she struggled to get her pants on while listening to the other two.

"Okay, I'll show you around, and then you'll let me go."

"We'll see about that."

She picked up her helmet and disappointment stung her when she found no new messages; nothing from Devik, or her parents, not even from the clan. They were really on their own.

Stepping off the speeder, she slung her rifle in her back and met Aresu's amazed glare. Bardan was staring too, with the most loving eyes and a discrete smile.

"I know this makes my butt look gorgeous," Runa said, and ruffled Aresu's hair. "You'll get a set of your own if you behave, _ad'ika_."

Brushing his hair backwards Bardan put his own helmet on and shouldered his Verp, she heard him slightly clearing his throat in the private link. Runa used to see him as two different persons with and without the _buy'ce_ but not anymore. They were closer than ever when they both wore the buckets.

Aresu shook her head in silent disapproval. "Bounty hunting is not appealing. I have a higher purpose in this life."

It was dark and strangely silent inside the casino. The carpets and specially insulated walls absorbed all noises when they walked in between the jubilee wheels and sabacc tables. Aresu was leading the way, Runa kept at a close distance and Bardan walked behind them. Many credit machines were torn apart and stripped of all salvageable parts.

"I can understand the benefits of thieving and scavenging," commented Bardan. "A life's true calling for a young padawan."

Aresu scornfully sighed and kept walking until they reached dimly lit hallways and Runa held her KX ready in case of an ambush.

"No welcoming party," she heard in her personal channel.

She smiled and replied. "As much as I believe in your Force senses I still like to _look_ prepared."

He laughed gently in her ears. Aresu didn't slow down or stop, Runa had to pull her back a few times otherwise she could disappear around the next corner.

"What's the hurry, sweetie?"

"Just follow me and don't get lost."

She brought them into an elevator, several keys were broken or snapped out of the control panel. Aresu pressed one of the lower floors.

"Sensing anything yet?" she asked Bardan as they went down.

He turned his head a little. "Besides Aresu's overwhelming irritation?"

"She can hear us?"

"Of course not… but she can figure us out."

He relaxed his shoulders and let his Verp hang from its sling.

"Figure _what_ out?"

The doors of the elevator parted and they stepped out in a dark hall, Runa's sensors immediately picked up sounds and voices of presences all over the place. There were fires lit in a few corners with people gathered around, dressed in rags. Humans and non-humans alike, all seemed either ill, drunk, asleep or generally complaining about something. Her HUD started identifying the different species, invading her field of vision with a large pointless list and she shut the progress down with a blink. None of them seemed to react at the sight of two _mando_'s in their territory.

"Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" Runa muttered.

"They don't care who gets in or out," Aresu replied quickly. "But they'd strip you of everything you have. Come on, we're almost there."

She looked over her shoulder; Bardan wasn't aiming his rifle at anybody and just walked along without giving a second glare at their surroundings. Runa on the other hand was tense and couldn't let go of the grip on her weapon.

They climbed a flight of stairs and found themselves in a private suit type of lodging but everything was turned around to make every hiding place inaccessible or just difficult to live in. There was trash and discards all over the floor, some stuff seemed ages old.

"Hard to believe a little girl lives here," Runa said.

"Yes," Aresu replied, parting a curtain from a wall to reveal another hideout. "Those that looked for the little girl never came back."

They followed her in the other room where she had a small cot with blankets, a reading lamp and cleanly stowed plates and boxes. She turned around to them and stretched her arm out to Bardan.

"I'd like my lightsaber back."

He looked down on her for a long moment. Aresu waited but her face took an expression Runa did not expect. Eyes brimming with tears she reiterated her request.

"I'm sorry," he answered in a breath. "I can't let you go on like this."

Imagining what it would be like to have to fight off every intruder in this room was a nightmare, unable to sleep for too long or having any possessions. But having to do so as a fourteen year old female was far worse. Runa had noticed quite a few grown males on the way in, and they didn't seem like the righteous type. She pulled her helm off, suddenly aware of reeking smells in the air and knelt down to her level.

"Come with us Aresu, please. You know this is not a place for you, that's why you're showing this to us."

"No!" she stepped back in protest. "You have it all wrong!"

Runa turned her gaze on Bardan to seek his help. He looked back and suddenly turned away, walking out of the room.

"You can't survive here without your weapon," he said as they followed him. "You'll die in a matter of days and we won't need to worry about you. I'm making this easier for all of us."

"Bardan, you can't possibly mean that."

He looked at Runa but she couldn't meet his eyes and admitted to herself that he lost her with his logic.

"Pain and death don't scare her," he explained coldly. "However, losing control of her life, other people deciding what's best for her… that's where it stings the most, doesn't it? I know. I've been there. You don't get to choose what you want to be in the Jedi Temple."

Aresu shook her head, wiping her face with the back of her hands, tears flowing freely now. Bardan sat on an old crate and removed his _buy'ce_, placing it next to him. He unclipped the lightsaber from his belt and stared at it thoughtfully.

"This is the only thing we get to make our selves."

Runa sighed with emotion, not yet aware of what he really meant. The padawan looked from the silver hilt to Bardan then to Runa.

"The Order is finished," he continued. "You can be whatever you want to be, if you dare taking control of your existence and stop relying on a _jedi_ weapon."

"But the Jedi ways are all I know," moaned Aresu. "They kept me alive for years."

"You kept yourself alive," he corrected, "by stealing, deceiving and killing. Not exactly the way I was educated at your age."

His smirk was almost mocking as he nodded in direction of dark, brownish stains on the floor. Aresu stepped away from him, arms tightly folded on her breast in fear.

"I didn't mean it…"

"Just take our offer. Now that I've seen what you're capable of I know you won't burden us as much as I thought."

His expression was neutral but his eyes betrayed a certain admiration that Runa detected when he looked at the girl. She seemed to unwind a little, sighing loudly.

"You finished your training when you left the Order." Her voice was nothing but a painful complaint. "You had the choice but I don't have better options."

He looked at the lightsaber again, and gave it to her.

"Now, make your choice."

She took the metallic hilt with a feeble hand, repressing a hick-up and wiping her eyes. Runa wanted to wrap her arms around her and take her away from it all. _Shabla_ instincts. Mandalorians didn't do pity.

"I'm coming with you."

She had always believed that becoming a mother happened during the nine months of natural pregnancy with all the hormones triggering the right behavior that helped protecting and loving a kid as your own flesh and blood.

That turned out to be a misconceived idea.

During the entire walk back to the speeder she refused to let go of Aresu's hand until they were on safer grounds. Having to be exposed to the worst scum of Tarisian lower levels with the girl made her fiercely purposeful and she felt ready to slot anything in her way. Granted that Aresu was still a stranger to them, Runa still thought that she was a bit naïve and she had tried to kill her man but she hoped that they could change that. After all, she had decided to change.

Bardan took the speeder back to the Lower City center and slowed down in a lane as they got stuck in traffic. He lifted the hood of his cloak, hiding his helmet from whoever got too curious.

"That's a Jedi cloak," said Aresu.

"And now it's mine," he answered flatly after a pause.

She snickered and looked out the windows.

They eventually stopped at a sleazy hotel that didn't make enough profit to hire a decent cleaning droid. The house keeper was an old, half-blind Quarren with most of his tentacles intact and the front sign at the entrance wasn't working. Runa was just happy to find a place to rest, even if the mattress made weird noises and she saw something crawl along the walls for a second. It still beat Aresu's hideout by miles.

Lying on one of the beds and staring at the cracked ceiling she wondered about their next steps.

"Have you ever seen Carida?"

"I haven't," Bardan said, helmet off, busy zipping a bag open. "We'll need to check with the clan about visiting that place."

"High risk of failure," Runa agreed. "I wouldn't go unprepared either."

After maybe a month she would get used to the idea that her brother wasn't going to show up any minute and say that everything was back to normal again. It had been a week since she had found his first and last message from the Imperial training planet. She sat up, and saw Bardan giving a clean blanket to Aresu who was sitting on the other mattress.

"What's on Carida?" she asked.

"Runa's brother. The Empire caught him."

"So why aren't you there yet?"

His face went grim and he looked to Runa with imploring eyes. "It's not that easy. Carida is entirely under Imperial control. As Taris will be, soon."

Aresu looked at her as well. She seemed tired and annoyed.

"Did you stop being a Jedi because of your feelings for Runa?"

That hurt, actually. She wanted to react and mouth gaping she could only watch Bardan smiling and shaking his head.

"Those are two completely unrelated things."

The girl braced her knees up to her chin under the blanket. "Attachment is forbidden. You left the Order, and now you have feelings for someone."

Runa almost scoffed her, thinking of the amount of _feelings_ that were actually involved, needless to mention what they _did _now and then.

"It's important to have someone to look after other than yourself," he replied very patiently. "And from now I'll also be looking after you. So that's not attachment, it's being selfless…"

"But you indulge in your feelings, that's not selflessness."

"We're not indulging!" Runa laughed. "Are we?"

Bardan rubbed tiredness off his eyes and went to lay beside her. "No kid should be lecturing me about that." He tugged at her sleeve and she looked at him with his arm on his forehead. "Do you think I was more a Jedi before we got involved?"

"I didn't know you that well before, Bardan."

"And now… do you know me enough?"

It was more a plead than a simple question. She wanted to feel his embrace and let him know that she would always be by his side, even when he'd have to do things that would scare her. He had scared her a few times that day but at least she wasn't apprehending him anymore. He was her hero, she knew that much.

"You used to be sad and lonely," she finally said. "And so was I."

"So you both indulged," Aresu said. "It's not right."

Bardan got up on his elbows. "Aresu, what's so right about people going around the Temple with their secret relationships with other Jedi or padawan and having illegitimate offspring across the galaxy?"

"There was no such thing."

"Go to sleep. _Shab_, you're annoying."

"Maybe. But at least I'm not a fool."

Runa needed to laugh. If Aresu was going to be part of their family she was going to be a piece of work but she'd rather take her snappy remarks as a distraction.

Bardan didn't get out of his _beskar'gam_ and just half-sat against the wall, arms loosely crossed. She put a blanket over him and lay against him, meshing her fingers with his.

"Good night, fool."

His stubble tickled her face as they kissed, and she guessed that Aresu would be exasperatedly rolling her eyes at them. As she closed her eyes to sleep Runa still heard the girl's questions in her mind and got lost in thought wondering what may have been if she hadn't liked Bardan and remained the sad and lonely person she used to be.


	6. Chapter 6

**Carida, Colonies Sector. Day 5.**

[Log Entry #11. Recruit ID: ST001289155 - Security Level 4]

Today was the beginning of my second week into Basic Training and we're short of two guys in our dorm already. At first I thought Jaio would have dropped out by now but I was wrong. She beats me at endurance drills; she was probably born on a high gravity planet like this one, the cheater. She's the kind of girl that talks and acts tough but knows when to shut up. I think you would have liked her.

We're in the desert boot camp right now. There is no air conditioning indoors and I'm passively enjoying sitting in my own soup. We're not allowed more than one shower a day, and only for 10 seconds so I'll let you imagine the scent of this place. A hint: it reeks.

The first thing we did this morning was running around the field with our uniform on, temperature regulators and helmets off for twenty minutes. Then we did some shooting for a couple hours, and finished with more running. It's called acclimating and it sucks. We're supposed to be doing this for ten days before going on with the real exercises. But I looked myself in the mirror tonight and I think I look a bit tan now: well, mostly sun-burnt. Keryl puked in his stuffing bag right after lunch and I don't think he's going to get clean fatigues tomorrow so now he's scrubbing them in the sink.

I talked to a weird guy at dinner yesterday. He looks older than most recruits and kept cool when I asked him where he came from. And you won't believe this, Runa, because I didn't believe it either. He says he's from Mandalore. I said OKAY and he asked me if I knew other people from there. He seemed a little too friendly and confident for a newbie and wouldn't stop chatting about a girl he met just before enlisting wishing he could have a way to talk to her from here. This is why I stopped sending you messages and began writing a journal instead. I'll keep the comlink as a last resort when I start feeling like I might die here.

[Entry saved. Time: 2154]

**Lower City, Entertainment District, Taris.**

He walked the streets, helmet concealed by his cloak, trying not to look specifically _mando_ nor Jedi. Confusing people generally did the trick to be ignored. The sidewalk was largely populated with countless species, Bardan even saw a few faceless figures like himself, only wearing different masks but nevertheless trying not to be recognized. But he was still one of the rare humans in Lower City.

The location that Eevy picked seemed like a popular club. Bardan entered without looking too closely at the display pictures, just glad that nobody asked him to show ID or to remove his helmet. A waitress that could have used a bit more clothing on her walked up to him. She had jewelry on her lekku's and purple skin, or maybe it was painted.

"Welcome to the Lekku Lounge! My name is Lunya and I'll be serving you tonight. Would you like a private booth?"

Bardan smiled under his _buy'ce_ and nodded in greeting. "Actually I'm here to see your female Mon Cal… Big cranium, rather petite and brown-skinned."

The Twi'lek waitress held her notepad against her breast in total confusion before going _Oh!_ and laughed nervously.

"I was thinking you had the wrong place for that kind of service. We only offer _lekkued_ shows. Right this way."

There was a main stage occupied by three dancers, and near the back end of the room were doors and curtains to those private booths she had mentioned. He counted twelve customers currently in the lounge but the smoke and music made it seem busier. Lunya lead him around the main stage and placed a menu card on the table where his Mon Cal pal was sitting.

She had credits in her hands and was watching one particular Twi'lek on the stage; she had blue-green skin and flower tattoos all over it. Bardan directed his gaze back on Eevy who seemed to be ignoring him.

"I didn't know this was your type," he said before removing his helmet. He brushed his now brow-length hair back and told himself to think of a way to keep it held down inside the bucket.

"It's a friendly place," she replied with a more relaxed voice than usual. "And they don't ask questions."

He watched her taking a long sip from a glass of emerald fluid. Then someone placed a similar drink in front of him. Lunya suggestively winked to him and left.

"I wanted to apologize," said Eevy. "They placed a transmitter on me and now they know I went off road."

The green alcoholic drink was sweet and made his tongue and throat numb for a few seconds.

"Just so you know there's an inquisition going on," she continued. "They wanted to use your wife as bait because they can't track you directly. I'm so sorry, Bardan."

She started sobbing with her shoulders and squinted her big globe eyes shut.

He gently patted her arm, sending a comforting wave through the Force although he would've preferred not to deal with her wounded conscience. "There, there. Just tell me where they are now."

"Somewhere in Middle City, in a temporary base. They use no markings but they all wear black uniforms. One of them is called Invader or something like that."

"Vader," he nodded. "What did he tell you?"

Lunya showed up again, interrupting their conversation, to place a bowl of warra nuts on the table. The tattooed Twi'lek onstage started doing a few low moves to catch his attention, a sight he really didn't need to see right then. Seeing female Twi'leks always got him thinking of Laseema who was taking care of Kad at the moment.

"You should probably give her something," Eevy said, sniffling through her large nostrils.

"So this is the 501st operating out of uniform, if I understand what you're saying." He handed a hundred credits worth chip to the blue-green girl that took it with her lips, dangling her lekku's in his face then he gestured for her to move away. "Are you sure it's me they're after and not someone else?"

"I'm sure. They said it had to do with an outpost that you attacked, they showed me a recording…" She threw a warra nut in her mouth. "Fifty thousand. That's how much they were going to pay me."

"Cheap _chakaare._"

"But of course now I'm as good as dead here."

Bardan sighed and crossed his arms on the table. He knew about the sort of inquisition that the Empire was doing against Jedi, renegade clones and all the Republic civilian and military personnel that didn't report for their Imperial duty. Vader was leading the Purge operation, giving no trials and making sure all were accounted for on a death list. He had watched a leaked holo-surveillance feed of how Vader, formerly Anakin Skywalker, was slashing and dashing padawans and younglings alike in the Jedi Temple. That was how they were planning to rule the galaxy. And by _they_ he meant the Sith. There was no point in plaguing Eevy with that detail.

"So what are you going to do now?" she asked sadly.

He pocketed a handful of candied nuts and drank another sip of his cocktail. "I'm still thinking."

"I feel like I haven't done much to really help, Bardan. I'm so sorry. Tell that to your wife."

He nodded again, stretching his lips in a forced smile. Runa would be pissed, he was certain of it; she had placed hopes on Eevy in order to feel safe on this planet. But nothing was less safe than this. And they weren't even married yet. He let that thought sink in until it started to hurt in his chest.

"You should leave while you still can," he told her. "Let me handle this and just look after yourself now, Eevy."

She smiled gratefully and bobbed her large head. "Have you decided what to do yourself?"

He stood and dropped a few more credits for the waitress. "I'm going to turn my self in. If it's me they want then I won't let them get to my family."

"I wished we had met in better circumstances, Bardan. You're a good man. How do they say again… May the Force be with you."

"Who knows," he replied and put his _buy'ce_ back on, "we might actually meet again."

He walked out and only let his mind race when he was back in the speeder. Vader. _Shabla_ Vader was after him. They knew his name, what he looked like and also that he was a Mandalorian now. There were possibly people watching him from the moment he entered the club and waiting to make their move. Bardan sensed them from the oppressing feeling of being stalked. It was easy, he just had to look out for male humans wearing black uniforms. He checked the seats of the T24, running his glove-scanner over everything to detect bugs or any other remote devices. If they wanted him dead it was nothing more simple than half a dozen small charges under the chassis and a remote det. But there was none of that: they wanted him alive. The faint call of the pulsing beacon caught his attention. This time, he knew what to find at the other end.

In his comlink channel display he couldn't find Runa's. She used to have it open now and then in case her brother would try to contact her but not anymore. Good girl, he thought. He knew how worried she was about Devik, because every time she mentioned him her eyes would water up, but she could put that aside now. Bardan had to tell her what was going on, though. Whatever happened with him, she had to remain hidden and prepare to escape with the Aggressor.

He waited a long minute with his comms, staring at the HUD without blinking, just contemplating his options. What about running away now and letting the inquisition hunt him as far as they could? He would have to leave Runa and Aresu behind either way. The girl was now able to hide her Force imprint, one less thing to worry about. They were tough, both _mandokarla_. They could go back to Mandalore and seek their own help without him.

Ten minutes had passed and his head was against the command panel. He was writing a text message in his comms.

_Mhi solus tome. Mhi solus dhar'tome. Mhi me'dinui an--_

He squeezed his eyes shut, knocked his helmet against the panel, and deleted the phrase. _Don't be stupid, you'll be back for her. You'll tell her face-to-face_. He started the engines and flew off the main skylane to dive towards the Under City, the most dangerous place to be on Taris, the living space of the Rakghouls. He wrote another message.

GET BACK TO THE SHIP AND WAIT FOR MY SIGNAL.

The Under City was deep below the sky bridges and lights of the urban life. People lived in whatever they could find in the trash and built their shelters out of it. The ground seemed covered in soil but it was a mixture of fungi and whatever fungi would grow on. Taris had never had a patch of apparent natural soil for thousands of years.

The Force beacon was like a sudden scream when he got nearer to its source. He was basically in a large cave when he had to stop and turn the airspeeder around to land. Rakghouls were merciless, salvage, animalistic creatures that attacked all living things and contaminated them with a disease that would rot the flesh and mind. He had to be cautious.

Switching his helmet-light on he jumped to the ground and started looking down through the mist created by the microscopic breathing flora. He was glad he had his breathing filters on. He got to a crouch and found a pulsing amber glow that, when he waved the fog out, turned out to be a pyramidal object with carvings on it. An old Jedi artifact. Or Sith, he didn't know. Hovering his hand over the pointy object he summoned a simple wave of Force to inflict its activity, ordering it to shut down. The artifact complied and stopped pulsing, going completely dark.

There was a deep, raspy breathing closing in, mechanically enhanced and regular as a metronome. Bardan turned his head around to see a black shape in the mist, which felt like a pit of absolute darkness in the Force. Switching his light off, he knew he would never forget that imprint or the sensation of fear it suggested. His instincts told _flee_ but his reason said _negotiate_. He stood up and acknowledged him with a nod.

"Lord Vader."

He watched the other masked man, waiting for his response as he moved closer - his gait was somewhat rigid. He was taller than a clone of Jango, not the height he remembered from the holos, and that was supposed to intimidate but Bardan saw through that. The black morbid mask and armor were only a notch more fearsome than his own and equal if not inferior in protection than _beskar_. He carried no apparent weapon other than a lightsaber at his side. Regardless of Force powers Bardan had the upper hand so far.

"Bardan Jusik." His voice was deep and loud, clearly artificial. "You are not easy to find."

"Flattering. What gives me the honor of having you personally arrest me?"

Anakin Skywalker had been a Jedi General like him. He knew orders, discipline, and general rules of engagement. That was his chance.

"I'm offering you a deal. Work for me and your friends will not be harmed."

His heart beat more rapidly at the mention of Runa but he steadied his breathing and wiped her away from his thoughts. Now was not the time to get emotional. He let his reason take over.

"The Jedi Counsel tried before you," he bargained. "But they didn't offer a price. I'm listening."

He felt Vader's relief of victory as he stuck his thumbs in his belt, breathing calmly like a well-greased machine.

"Serve the Emperor, and you will never have to worry about money or your security."

Bardan would have normally shunned the idea of serving another man - Jedi or Sith - and he was appalled at himself for even considering the idea. Runa was still in the back of his mind and the feelings that lingered with her, attaching him constantly to her, got him to neglect his most precious gift - his freedom. His gut feeling cried for him to run for his life, something he could manage but, what about the ones he had to carry along?

The comms icon blinked in the corner of his HUD. It was Runa.

WHERE ARE YOU?

"Do this for her," Vader continued on a persuasive tone. He had picked up Runa's presence as well.

Bardan switched his comlink off and couldn't repress a sigh. The memory of Skywalker slaughtering children on holovids haunted his mind's eye and he saw himself at his side, in black robes and wielding a red lightsaber. He felt his stomach churn at the idea. He would slot himself before turning into a Sith.

In his pocket he had a small private beacon linked to the Aggressor, resting in the middle of warra nuts he'd taken from the Lekku Lounge. That thought distracted him as he pressed the activating switch. He even thought about that tattooed blue-green Twi'lek and her oh-so-suggestive dance which almost made him laugh in his helmet.

He knew it was off-putting, and it served its purpose. It had taken his mind off of the ones he cared for the most.

"If I accept," he finally replied. "It would be under several conditions."

Vader seemed more than annoyed. He was angry now, but still remained somewhat calm. "I'm listening."

"First," he said carefully, "I want the bounties lifted for me and a list of names I'll provide later on."

"We'll see." He said after a pause.

"Secondly, I want a guarantee that I can put the contract on hold, whenever I wish and without repercussions. And finally--"

"Watch yourself, Jusik."

"…And finally, I don't hunt or kill children."

No reaction. The _chakaar_ was totally at peace with his past. To hell with it then, if he got his kicks at killing innocents he could do it himself.

A brisk vision came up from his memory of a bright day on Coruscant as he was sitting in the library. One year before the Clone Wars and the Battle of Geonosis, he was eight-teen back then and had just passed his trials. He remembered being happy about not having a braid anymore. Most young Knights would celebrate together with their group of friends but he didn't. His mind was so relaxed that he just sat in the Jedi Archives, browsing HoloNet articles in a semi-meditative state.

A younger man, a padawan, had taken a seat opposite from him on the holo-computer tables and seemed very agitated and upset. Bardan had looked up from his screen and noticed the young man's braid. The padawan had stared back at him with bitter envy and snuck his nose back into his studies. There had been no ground for a conversation or even an acknowledgement between them. If only he had known, Bardan thought to himself, how that boy turned out later on, he would have talked to him that day.

Back into reality Vader stood in front of him only paces away, seeming just as thoughtful as he was, although Bardan was ready to bet that his memory was of another place and time. The mention of the younglings certainly had something to do with that. He decided to change the subject.

"And another thing… Let Eevy Tolod live. She may be a coward but she has her uses."

"You're very demanding," Vader finally said, "for someone I should execute on the spot."

He heard the familiar hiss of a ship's engine. Bardan let out a short cackle. "I'm a Mandalorian. Get used to it."

He picked up the ancient artifact, now a dense piece of triangular metal and tossed it to Vader who caught it one-handed before walking out of the cave. Something moved in the corner of his vision and his sensors brought the category as "unidentified" when inspecting the species it belonged to.

"I'll let you know when to find me," he added. "And watch out for the Rakghouls."

The roars of the Aggressor was loud enough to scare off any vermin around, chasing all the mist in a large perimeter. He saw Runa at the controls through the canopy and she opened her mouth wide, looking above him. He turned around to see Vader standing there. Bardan just walked up the ramp, wondering if he had done the right choice.

When the hatch opened to reveal a young lady in white and lilac painted armor, his doubts flew away. He held her close in a tight hug as if he hadn't seen her in months.

"What the hell, Bardan?" she whispered. "Who, or _what_ is that?"

"Let's get out of here. I'll explain later," he sighed, pulling his bucket off. "Say hello to our new boss."

He watched the dark Lord of the Sith disappear behind the closing hatch doors and asked himself if killing him wasn't actually the better option. Vader was certainly thinking the same.


	7. Chapter 7

**Aboard the Aggressor, Taris Coastal Spaceport. Day 5.**

She went over the list again - reading each name silently to herself - incredulous and shocked by the revelation: Master Orui was still alive. She pressed the screen of the display monitor on the ship's control panel, something she wasn't supposed to do without surveillance, to read the details of the search warrant.

Master Orui had fallen, she had seen it, but now the possibility of his survival brought to the surface she didn't remember seeing him hit the ground. That was his picture all right: green lekku's, a tattoo on his chin and a wise glint in his eyes. The reward for his death was five thousand credits, but for his capture it was ten thousand - the file had been recently updated by Darth Vader himself. As she read on, her own name showed up. She squinted her eyes shut and switched the screen off. She wanted to cry in rage, clasping her hands around her head to repress anger and find comfort in the fact that she could still save him if he was really alive.

Furtively making her way back to her quarters she avoided the main cabin where Bardan and Runa were talking quietly, exchanging concerns about the situation. As usual Bardan was difficult to read because of his Force cloaking, like a comlink that could only receive and not emit anything. Mastering the cloaking trick was something she hadn't placed in her list of priorities but she had no doubt it would come in handy when the situation called for it. But now she needed to remain reachable in case Master Orui tried to find her.

Hiding behind a makeshift curtain from a sheet she had taken from Bardan's storage locker she climbed on the thin cot of a small detention cell. She dozed off in a meditative state, letting the flow of the Force ease her agitated mind while she schemed a possible escape or maybe coerce them to help her save Master Orui. It was only a matter of time before either of them would come looking for her to tell her that she had to stay onboard. She heard boots pacing down the durasteel floors; Bardan had a distinctive aura of mixed earnestness and irritation every time she was around him, and it tampered down when he got to her "cabin".

"Let's talk," he said. It wasn't a question because he could sense that she was inside and awake.

Aresu got up to open the cage door, parting the curtain open to let the dim light in. She stood in front of him, arms compressing her breast to keep body language to a minimum and finally avoided his deep blue gaze. His gloves and gauntlets were missing and he had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows, she guessed that was a way to get comfortable in armor.

"Talk about what?" she muttered.

"Safety," he said. "_Your_ safety, to be precise. I know you expect me to lock you up in here - which would be the sensible thing to do - so, would you be okay with that?"

She sighed, exasperated that her intuition had been right, sliding against the cell bars down to a squat. "This is about my master, right? You don't want me to interfere because you want Vader's money."

Risking a glance at him she wondered if he was being the strict teacher or the fatherly figure.

"Maybe," he said, atoned. "You know there's a good chance that there isn't much left of him. You have to let him go."

Eventually, she would learn to live with the loss. But knowing that the Jedi Order was gone, all the other Jedi were virtually dead, Aresu was left with only one other available master to help her complete her training in the ways of the Force. He was standing right in front of her, and he had tested her many times already. Unconsciously she felt the swollen side of her jaw: now that she saw his bare arms she knew what kind of muscles could bruise her so badly. It gave her enough courage to finally reply.

"I'll decide _when_ to let go. If he's still alive I want to see him again, just once."

"We can try that," he nodded, apparently a little distressed as he got reminded of what he did to her. He crouched down to her level. "But no heroics, and don't even think of trying to kill me again or I'll leave you in the deepest hole of the Under City. Understood?"

She confronted his glare for a few seconds. "Understood."

He stood straight again, extending his open hand to her, like a peace offering. She took it and got up. Her hand in his for a short moment, she felt her heart jump or was it the Force making a bond between them?

"Meet you at the boarding ramp in ten," he said, then nodded in direction of her outfit. "Put on something more solid than that."

She watched him walk away and the seal door sliding shut behind him. Her padawan outfit was the last thing she had from a time when everything was so much more simple and she had known her place beside her master. Now, she was a nobody and even her Force abilities didn't seem to matter to a man like Bardan.

With her large unfitting apparel and her weapons resting loosely in her pockets she did not feel comfortable at all to go in the field. She eyed Runa's armor set and belts with envy as she tightened the straps on her knee pads.

"How did you get that suit?" she asked knowing she would get an answer if she was blunt.

"My aunt left it to me. She died many years ago and my father took care of her things."

Bardan arrived, fully armored with a big rifle slung in his back, a firearm in his leg holster and - she saw it right away - a lightsaber hanging from his belt.

"_Ari_," he said through his mask, and held up a device the size of her pinky nail. "This is _not_ for separating, nor letting you improvise as we go. It'll allow you to hear what me and _Run'ika_ are telling eachother on the comms."

She pushed the bead into her left ear and heard Runa's upbeat voice that contrasted with the cold, faceless helmet she wore.

"Finally! You're part of our world now."

Bardan sighed, it sounded like he did it right in her face. "No more yelling. But also no more excuses for ignoring orders."

Aresu found it unsettling to rely so much on equipment to assure success in a mission. She didn't know how to express that to them, while Bardan might understand her point of view, Runa could only feel left out of her logic.

They left the ship with its security measures activated and climbed in the airspeeder parked in the same hangar. Reaching the checkpoint at the exit of the spaceport, Aresu sunk her head between her shoulders at the sight of while-armored soldiers halting them. Bardan rolled his window pane down and the Stormtrooper nodded, lifting his open hand up in acknowledgement. They passed without a hick-up, she unclenched her fists in relief and saw Runa turning her visor over to Bardan at the steering paddle.

"What, you think I'd forget to tell them that we have a daughter now?"

"No," she replied calmly, "I think you've forgotten to tell _me_ that you had it cleared."

Bardan repressed a chuckle, but his voice got nervous. Regardless of armor, this private channel revealed _everything_. "Well, now you know."

"It's okay for this time, _Bard'ika_."

They traveled through urban air traffic, going down levels gradually until there wasn't much sunlight left. Aresu recognized the canyon of ghost towers and broken sky bridges, until there wasn't much she had seen at all in her long stay on Taris. This was the Under City. You needed a flashlight to see your own feet down there.

"This is where I picked you up earlier," remarked Runa. "Forgot something?"

Bardan took the speeder to a clearing in the middle of discarded rubble. Aresu unclipped her seat strap and turned to look around: it was very foggy out of the vehicle.

"I sensed something around here, as Vader did." He shifted in his seat to face Aresu. "Keep your arms to yourself, no talking, and hide your presence in the Force unless I tell you otherwise."

She nodded to the black T-visor.

"Good. What do you know about the Rakghouls?"

"Why would you--" Stopping in mid-thought she wanted to gasp and protest. "I should have stayed on the ship," she murmured.

Bardan breathed through his nose, obviously containing his irritation. "I'm sorry it had to be this way. Just tell us what you know."

"They're infectious. Once you get in contact with one of them you have six to forty-eight hours before it's too late."

"Have you seen one?" asked Runa.

She shook her head. "I only heard things."

"Is there an antidote?"

"There was a serum… But it got discontinued."

"Why in the _haran_ would they stop producing it?"

She startled. She had never heard Bardan speaking aggressively and now he was in her head. "We could be able to stop the disease with the Force," she said hesitantly.

He sighed and seemed to relax, slowly shaking his head and reached for Runa's hand on her lap. She meshed her fingers with his.

"If anything happens..."

"You taught me to look out for myself," she said quietly. "So I'll be doing that while you do your job."

He sat in silence and nodded sharply. "Let's do this."

They left the vehicle to walk into the darkness, stepping into the fog. Aresu stayed close to Runa: she let Bardan scout ahead and waited for his "clear" signal every time they walked around a corner. She smelled something putrid in the air, guessing that it was the yeast and fungi that she walked on. But there were at least three presences ahead of them and her senses flared up in alertness. She squeezed Runa's hand and grabbed her lightsaber. They both raised their blaster rifles, ready to shoot.

"Regroup," Bardan said, walking back a few steps. "I got three marks coming out of the windows and doors."

"Copy that, they're showing up on infrared." Runa held Aresu closer to her. "Should we engage?"

She could see them now: dark shapes crawling down hills of millenary garbage, some looking more or less human but regardless of it, Aresu wanted to run as fast as she could. They radiated animalistic hunger and rage, leaving no room for negociation.

"Wait, you don't want to attract others with the noise." He shouldered his rifle but Aresu didn't sense any intent to kill in him. The Rakghouls however… "I'm picking up something else."

Another one? In order to scan with the Force Aresu needed to control her breathing because she could distinguish the semblance of a face on one of the three that got a little closer, and it made her panic.

"Don't be scared," Runa said, patting her back. "Beasts can smell fear."

"There," Bardan said, pointing his gun to his right.

Following his aim Aresu saw it. She saw _him_, and she just couldn't believe it if not for the ragged Jedi robes.

"Master!"

"_Fierfek_…"

His skin had turned to grey with patches of brown and green, one lekku was missing, probably torn off - or worse - and he walked with his back hunched, his left arm hanging to the floor like it was weighing way too much for him to carry. He groaned.

"Aresu…"

She cried in horror at the sight of him, of what he had become. His eyes had gone from yellow to completely black, and she couldn't say if he still had both. She was terrified, and didn't fight Runa's tight grasp when she had tried to instinctively run away. The Mandalorian woman held out her pistol and aimed at Master Orui's head, or what was left of it.

Bardan approached with his rifle down and spoke up, making his voice more articulate. "What is your name, creature?"

Slowly, black orbits turned to him and he stretched grey lips apart to reveal a set of rotten bloody fangs. Aresu couldn't stop crying, yet she still watched and realized that it wasn't Master Orui anymore… She couldn't even sense his identity.

He looked back at her with an insane expression. "Aresu…!"

"No! you're dead," she cried painfully. "You shouldn't have survived."

"This is not good," Runa said. "What is going on, here? I thought they were all brain-dead."

"Apparently not this kind," Bardan replied. "Looks like he's been fighting the disease for all this time… And he's still carrying his _shabla_ lightsaber."

Runa's voice was trembling slightly. "We should probably kill the other three, just in case."

"Keep them away from the kid."

And so Runa shouldered her rifle and shot at the now moving Rakghouls, they could crawl and jump at incredible speeds and she missed a few times. Aresu switched her lightsaber on, ready to slash at one blurry mass moving in her direction; it hit the ground at the impact of a red flash and she jumped away from it, clinging to Runa's side. In the mess of blaster fire and trash being blown up Aresu almost didn't notice her old master starting to limp furiously towards her, growling madly. Gasping, she couldn't get herself to raise her weapon against him, paralyzed by shock and sorrow. A green blazing light emerged with a roar, slicing across his path and something fell and rolled to the ground. It smelled like burnt flesh and she couldn't look at it.

Bardan stood over Master Orui's decapitated corpse, ignited lightsaber in hand. He picked something from the corpse and walked back towards them. She sensed no emotion in him, not even satisfaction nor sadness. Her master was dead for sure now that she saw it happen. Bardan had done it and, of course her heart was broken but she felt strangely relieved.

They did not fly back to the space docks; they stopped at a crowded bar called the "Brown Bolt" in Middle City. Aresu followed Bardan and Runa as customers made room on their path, eyeing them suspiciously thinking they weren't watched back. She stayed close to Runa out of habit, thinking she would attract less trouble with her seemingly pleasant yet intimidating color patterns. They walked up the room and next to a booth where two Weequays, a Zabrak and a Quarren were sitting. They froze in mid-conversation, hands discretely reaching under the table for their blasters.

Bardan stood motionless, looking fierce. "Move."

They looked eachother for a few seconds and complied, cautiously keeping their hands visible and only turning their back to them when they reached the entrance of the diner.

Aresu let herself fall in the worn cushioned seat as Runa and Bardan sat beside her in a protective semi-circle. Bardan ordered three ales and a female Twi'lek waitress came up with fresh bottles. They took their helmets off, careless of whoever was looking.

"To our first job," Bardan sighed, raising the drink to his lips.

"And to my first shooting at things that were alive," replied Runa before taking a long sip. "More or less alive."

Aresu hesitatingly tasted the alcoholic beverage.

"According to _mando _law, you're allowed to drink." He affectionately patted her head. "Are you alright, _ad'ika_?"

"I guess. What does that mean?"

"_Little one_," Runa replied. "Though you should be considered an adult now. His friends call him _Little Bardan_, so he's venting on you."

He gazed at her tiredly from across the table. "They make my life miserable because I'm short."

She smiled at them and took another taste of the bitter, fizzy drink. "So, what now?"

"We get paid, and move on to the next job so that I can ask for another favor." He turned his attention to the entrance.

"What were the first ones?" Runa asked, idly picking at the bottle's sticker with her nails. "You asked him to ignore that you ever were a spoon-bender?"

"He asked me to do his dirty work, so yeah: I assume that comes in the package."

"I saw a list of names in your computer," Aresu risked saying. "Though I shouldn't have… My name is in there."

She held his cold gaze for a moment. "Did you open it?" he asked. "Aresu Kurn doesn't look like you. At all."

"…What are you talking about?"

He reached for his belt and handed out a handheld datapad with that same list on its screen. She did as he asked, and pressed the entry with her name on it. The warrant was the same, but the picture was that of a young woman with brown and blond hair, green eyes and pale freckled skin.

"_Who_ is that?"

"A dead person," he said, taking the device back and a chill ran down her spine.

"Did you--"

"No. _No_, never. She was a friend, years ago." He rotated the bottle in his hand. "I'm sorry about your master."

Runa circled an arm around her shoulders and rested her head against hers.

"It's okay," Aresu replied. "He's in a better place now."

She had voluntarily avoided mentioning the Force. Their casual mood seemed to have faded into grimness. Bardan laid a hand on hers and spoke a series of words she couldn't understand.

"You're a brave girl," Runa said, breaking the ice. "You could stay with us for a while, take the time to get yourself sorted. Maybe get some armor."

Bardan lifted his chin in direction of the entrance. "Here's our messenger."

A tall human male arrived, all clad in black, standing straight as a pillar as he looked them all in the eye. Bardan gestured to a seat next to him.

"So you have the padawan."

Aresu's eyes widened in shock as Bardan squinted, still staring in the space between the other customers and the bartender. He drank another sip of his ale while the waitress came back with the next round.

"She helped me find her master," he said, and showed a metallic casing the size of her forearm. "His lightsaber. I suggest you do not touch it before decontamination."

"I see," the man said, accepting the object. "Nice work on hacking into our files, I'll let that slip if you turn her in."

Bardan turned to him with a menacing look. The man in the black uniform was bigger and stronger than him but something made him flinch slightly. Aresu sensed his fear.

"The deal was Orui for five thousand," Bardan said. "Respect your part of it, Korrado. And I won't tell your boss that you tried to go over his helmet."

The man - Korrado - shifted in his seat and she saw his arm move under the table. She peeked to her side and saw the muzzle of a blaster pistol. A strange feeling of anguish made the hair stand on the back of her neck, then Korrado started coughing loudly, he pulled at his collar and his face went red.

"Okay!… Alright," he winced, and dropped his weapon to the floor, choking on something invisible.

Aresu looked confusedly at Bardan. He didn't look back at her, completely focused on who she guessed was an Imperial.

"Vader and I had an understanding," he muttered slowly. "I work for him, he keeps my family out of your business. And I can do whatever the _shab_ I please to keep it that way."

The man took a deep breath, panting as if he had run miles to get there. He tried to get his composure back by having a drink, the blood slowly flushing from his face.

"I'll have the money transferred to your account, sir."

Bardan nodded to him and Korrado got up to leave hastily.

"Pretty boy can't hold his drink," mockingly said Runa. "That was scary, _Bard'ika_. I almost felt sorry for him."

He picked up his second ale and took an exaggerated sad expression. "But it's the only thing they can understand."

"I felt it," Aresu said. "It was the dark side…"

Bardan leaned against the back of the seat, letting his bottle rest on his breastplate and seeming more tired than he looked. "Sorry," he simply said. "Won't do it again, _ad'ika_. I only meant to scare him."

Runa cleared her throat. "What is this dark side?"

"It's when you use anger and hate to achieve something," Aresu replied mechanically.

"Yes," Bardan agreed with a nod. "I felt anger because he was threatening my family."

"But I'm not part of your family."

"Well…" He thoughtfully scratched the side of his jaw. "I adopted you. Welcome to the clan."

"This Jedi _osik_ is doing my head in," Runa sighed. "No wonder you don't want to have your own kids."

"The amount of trouble is mind-bogglingly huge," he stated. "Biological bonds and the Force…"

She smirked mischievously. "Sounds like you enjoy playing with fire then." She eyed his belt. "Like that one time when you _forgot_--"

"You certainly didn't seem to mind, _Run'ika_."

"If you weren't so good at _convincing_ then maybe we wouldn't have this conversation."

Suddenly Aresu felt out of place and cleared her throat to snap them back into reality. But that didn't help, they still smiled blankly at eachother, oblivious of the outside world.

"You should get a snip," Runa said.

"And I could heal myself in my sleep," he sloppily spoke, clearly starting to get affected by the alcohol. "You-- you should just get your tubes tied."

She slapped a gloved hand on the table, making the bottles clink. "I'm not _that_ desperate."

Aresu was starting to get mental pictures and had to cover her ears.

"First marital dispute," she grumbled.

"We're not even married yet," Runa said plaintively. "Bardan, what have you been waiting for? I thought I'd _lost _you today."

"I thought that too," he replied quietly.

He reached for her hand across the table, an empty bottle rolled down to crash on the floor but they both ignored it, and he said a series of four sentences in that language Aresu couldn't understand. Runa repeated it, like a poem or a pledge.

"Why won't you have babies?" she asked them. "You have me, already."

Runa patted her stomach. "I don't want anybody stealing my food after I ate it."

Bardan laughed through his nose and giggled in his folded arms for a moment.

"Aresu," continued Runa. "I still consider myself a kid, so I just don't think I'm the type of girl responsible enough to take care of babies. Besides… I like the idea of adopting, like I'm making a difference for someone who really needs help."

She smiled and stroked her cheek. The Twi'lek waitress arrived with a broom to clean up the broken glass.

"What happened?" she said pleasantly, obviously tired and under pressure beneath her smile.

Bardan rested his head in his hand and lifted glassy eyes up to her with a loving expression. "You remind me of a friend."

"I'm sure I do," said the waitress, picking up the pieces with a plastic container. "Good friend?"

"She's the babysitter."

"_Oh_. What a beautiful family you got there!"

She left with another order of ale for them and Runa flicked her fingers at his face. "Flirting with the waitress, so cliché."

"Ouch."

"And how drunk are you planning to get? I won't carry you out of here."

"Until I forget that I did two horrible things today."

"Including our marriage?"

"Well, that's a good thing we did. You have a point there."

"Take care of the tip. I'll go empty my bladder then we're heading home, alright?"

She stood carefully to zigzag towards the back of the room where the refreshers were, and apparently had to wait in line.

Aresu watched Bardan fidgeting with his belt pockets, trying to find tip money in small enough credit chips. He looked back at her with a confused look.

"I'm sorry about your master, _ad'ika_."

"You already told me," she said, mildly amused. "I'm fine."

"You're right, I'm such a _di'kut_." He placed two chips on the table. "I shouldn't have punched you either. Sorry about that, too."

"Well, I did try to kill you once…"

"But you failed!" he grinned victoriously. "'Cause you're such a nice little Aresu. And now that Runa isn't here, I can do this."

He playfully wrapped his arms around her and smacked a noisy kiss on her cheek. She didn't expect to feel facial hair against her skin and yelped in surprise. He smelled of ale, metal and soap. She tore herself away from him, relieved that Runa was back and he saw her as well.

"Ready to go?"

He stood and pulled her face to his. Aresu really didn't feel like watching but she was mesmerized and giggled, seeing two grown-ups in full body armor, amorously kissing and rear-groping. They grabbed their helmets and equipped them on their way out.

It was good to breathe the outside air and get away from the noises and smoke of the bar. They walked towards the speeder, and when she turned around Aresu saw Runa holding Bardan around his back, making him walk straighter than he ought to. There was nothing very _jedi_ left in him at all. She wondered about her own self after living in this odd family for a few years… She shook the thoughts away and resumed worrying about her drunken foster parents.


	8. Chapter 8

**Day 6**

The Aggressor's engines roared as they exited the atmosphere of Taris, Runa heard it and guessed she could pull herself out of her bunk now. _Their_ bunk. It was time she got used to the concept of sharing. She grabbed her utility trousers and got up to slide into the refresher closet. Soon, she would be rid of her claustrophobia if they were not getting a bigger ship.

Certain systems went offline when they jumped to lightspeed, she didn't want to find herself locked in a dark closet with no heating while trying to shower. She quickly changed to her clothes and washed her hands and face before brushing her teeth. The haze of the past night was still around her eyes which reminded her of home, and a different kind of crowd. She took a longer look at herself; she looked tired under the cold light. _You're married now. Is this what you expected?_

Runa pushed the door open and clumsily stumbled out, knocking her toes against something hard. She groaned and fell on the cot, grabbing her foot as her nerves stung. Bad day - she wanted to stay in bed for a while, to sleep lazily in a starfighter. Reluctantly she sat up and got her leather boots on when she noticed something bleeping in a corner of the compartment. She pulled her bag out of a cabinet and found her datapad. Someone had left her a message:

_Hey Runa! You probably don't remember me but I remember you. You didn't comm me so far and I'm a little disappointed... Anyway, my name is Ori, and some friends of yours told me you could use a hand finding your brother. This is a secure link, so knock yourself out! And by the way, I don't care what they say, I still want that drink with you when I come back from Carida. With your brother. _

_And come without your other friend. _

_Answer me soon, please!_

She bit her lips in confusion. She did remember the Stormtrooper who had asked her to call him the day before she left Mandalore. Who were those friends he was talking about? Did the Empire find out who she and her brother were?

Her "other friend"... he was talking about Bardan, who was her husband now. She cussed at the thought, then cussed at herself for it. She had asked for the marriage, though, and now she wasn't all that certain anymore.

The door slid open and she saw him from the corner of her eye, lying down with her own arm across her face. He smiled and looked at the datapad on the sheets.

"What's that?"

"I don't know what to make of it."

Sitting down he took the pad and started reading. "This is good news," he said. "Answer him. Ask him if your brother's okay."

"Why do you believe it's real?"

He looked down for a moment then rubbed her leg. "I'm getting a good feeling about this."

Runa pulled herself away as she sat up. "We should probably talk about last night."

"Okay." He idly tapped his thumbs on the handheld. "What's wrong?"

She met his eyes and held his gaze for a few seconds. "Are you sure we did the right thing? Getting married..."

She waited, measuring her growing doubts as the moments passed by and saw him hesitating, his jaw muscles twitching in a mix of confusion and sadness. In moments like these she saw the ordinary young man beneath the armor, someone she guessed very few could ever see. It made her uneasy when he let his weaknesses show.

"It's just a symbolic thing," he murmured. "It's not important..."

She didn't believe what he said and it hurt her when she saw a shine in his eyes. He kept at a distance and was about to stand up before stopping and giving her the datapad back.

"When I get to know you a little more each day, I know I won't regret it."

He stood to get inside the refreshers as she was still turning his words over in her mind. She heard the water running and she waited to try and fix things, maybe... She took her handheld and walked out of the bunk, leaving him to a moment of privacy because, married or not, he was a still a loner. As she was.

In the cockpit she was almost blinded by the kaleidoscope of lights that was hyperspace. Aresu was sitting on the pilot's chair and was reading a HoloNet article like she had seen lightspeed traveling all of her life. This was Runa's third. She sat beside the little girl and chin resting in her hand, letting her mind wander out the viewport, imagining what it would be like to get lost in hyperspace. Her eyes tried to find familiar shapes but failed.

"Where are we going?" she finally asked.

"Corellia." Aresu didn't lift her gaze off the screen.

"What's there for us?"

The girl shrugged. "Another job, I guess. Are you okay?"

It felt like being of a whole different species when you were the only one aware of your limits. Or when the others had something special you hadn't.

"I'm fine, just a little tired," Runa answered, refusing to give in to self-pity. "Did you get some rest? Something to eat?"

Aresu eventually looked up and stretched her lips into a forced smile. "You don't have to baby me, I can take care of myself."

Runa let out a sigh and checked her message in the datapad one more time, wanting to go to Carida and not just reply in text form. Why go now to Corellia instead? What was the hurry? She walked back to the bunk hoping to get some answers.

She softly rapped her knuckles against the door and waited a few seconds before entering. He was lying on his back, mouth gaping as he woke up to see her.

"Sorry I didn't know you slept so quickly."

He winced at the light coming from the passageway. "I can knock myself out. Get in or get out but at least shut the door."

"Okay." She got in and did as he asked. "I thought we could talk..."

She bumped her head against a bulk, something hard she couldn't see in the very dim light of the chrono on the wall. Runa lead herself with her hands to sit on the bed and felt for her aching scalp.

"You okay?" said Bardan's muffled voice.

"Damn cabinets." She looked at his shape wrapped in the sheets, facing the wall. "Why are we going to Corellia?"

A silence. "To meet my parents."

"Parents? I thought you never knew them..."

He sat up, seeming grumpy that she wouldn't let him sleep. Runa felt rather bad about it, but she needed this talk.

"I did live with them until I was six or seven. Then I was brought to the Jedi Temple." He looked at her, expecting a reaction. She waited for him to continue. "My mother's a virologist and my father's a pharmacology executive."

"Why do I feel like you're not going to see them just for a hug..."

"They forgot all about me. I know if I was them I wouldn't want to remind myself about how I abandoned my kid to some strangers in robes." He scratched his head and yawned. "But you're right, I'm gonna ask them a favor or two. I'll save the details for when I'm rested."

"Aresu said there's a job there too," she said as he lied back down. "Another Jedi hunt?"

"You guys don't need to be there, I can handle it."

"After all that's happened? Don't be silly."

"Is it silly that I want to spare you from things that hurt?"

She let herself lie next to him and slid a hand under his shirt. He laid back against her and grabbed her hand. "I love that you worry about me, but I want to be there to help if you need me. Don't be a hero."

"Doing this job is far from heroic... I don't know what I'm supposed to be anymore."

She pulled away from his chest and rested her head against his shoulder, breathing his scent in.

"You can just be my husband and I'll be your wife, for better or worse." She felt his arm around her back. "I regret doubting this marriage thing... I know it's important to you and I'll do my best to fit in with your clan."

"My clan?"

"Because of the ceremony, or wedding party. Isn't it what Mandalorians do?"

"We do but..." He rolled around to look at her intently. "It won't be before a while until we can gather again."

He was right about that and she had forgotten that they had all scattered. The idea of Bardan's friends all present at the celebration of her marriage was an awkward one. She could imagine them all being comfortable and cheerful amongst themselves, reminiscing things from a war she never really grasped, leaving her trying to be _good enough_, if not just _tolerable_. It was normal to feel like a stranger, but without a military background or half of their common knowledge she felt like a curiosity, a savage animal in the middle of sentient beings.

"That could give me enough time to become better at... whatever you guys do," she answered finally. "To be generally stronger."

The last time she had been at a Skirata gathering she had collapsed into a nervous breakdown and never really recovered from it. She felt tears building up under her eyelids and swallowed hard to clear her throat. Bardan sighed loudly and touched his brow in a here-we-go-again way.

"Runa. What makes you think you need to impress everyone in order to feel accepted?"

"I wasn't raised to be a warrior," she complained, her voice painfully obeying to her. "So I'll always feel inferior among your people unless I do something about it."

"And do I make you feel inferior?"

She marked a pause. "Right now? Yes."

Letting a few heartbeats pass he tore himself away from her and rolled around towards the bulkhead. His bitterness was tangible.

"Bardan..."

"I was going to wait my entire life to find someone like you. You turned away from your parents, your life and your brother because you chose to be with me. Now, how can I accept that I make you feel like crap?"

"I didn't mean it that way--"

"You were honest, though." His breathing betrayed anger or frustration. "I wish I could tell you how much you mean to me."

That wouldn't be something she would understand. There were terms like love and care that didn't seem to fit here, though she admitted that she never received much of it before. How could she know better? Feeling confused and slightly dizzy she wanted to tell him that she loved him. He was her first, the only man she wasn't ashamed to think of as her lover, and "husband" was such a weak word to define him. A few weeks ago she would have never trusted a soul with the keys of her speeder. Now she was standing against an empire, roaming the galaxy to hunt Jedi with a man whose age she didn't actually know. The Force changed the way the body grew old, she heard from back-alley hospital talks. So he could be twice her age for all she knew. It scared the wits out of her.

She was out of the room again and decided to sit on the cold floor of the passageway, head in her arms for a while. Crying helped relieve pressure but she couldn't cry for unknown reasons. She just sat in a ball waiting for minutes to pass. Small arms wrapped around her shoulders and she slowly looked up to see Aresu giving her an unsure hug.

"He'll be alright," the little girl said.

Corellia reminded her of Ord Mantell – home – for some parts. When they entered the atmosphere she saw Coronet with its tall buildings dominating the surrounding hills and the ocean. The capital was too dense and contrasted with the various natural features of the planet and she couldn't wait to go on a hike out in the forests or bathe in a real lake.

But it was just another fantasy and she came to her senses knowing that her normal, leisure filled life was over. Bardan got confirmation to dock around the spaceport and looked at her from his pilot's station, wearing a very formal business type of suit. Clean-shaved, and with his hair combed back neatly he seemed like a different person.

"What is it?" she asked.

"These meetings might take a while, why don't you take Aresu for shopping?"

Runa compliantly nodded even though she was curious to see what his parents were like.

She dressed the former Padawan to look like a young boy, with a hat that could hide her long hair and they straddled out the spaceport and met the streets of Coronet. It was around midday and a group of people were gathered around some kind of plaza with signs and holo-banners that claimed neutrality and anti-Imperial slogans. They kept quiet though, and Runa guessed they were busy having lunch.

They climbed in different cabs and went their separate ways. Aresu was grimly silent and didn't express much enthusiasm when browsing the clothing stores.

"Would you like some ice cream?" Runa tried. "Hot chocolate? Or a beer?"

"If it makes you feel better," the kid replied flatly. "What's ice cream?"

Sometimes it didn't take much to get her moods lifted. Runa spent at least five minutes picking flavors and all her worries washed away when they sat at a terrace with their cold desserts, watching people walk by on the busy sidewalks.

"Is this really nutritive?"

"No, it's just meant to fill gaps." She took a spoon full of the icy goo. "I haven't had this in years."

"Why aren't you with Bardan to meet his parents?"

Runa thoughtfully munched on crushed nuts thinking of an appropriate reply to that.

"It would be like going to a party you're not invited to."

*

The cab stopped at the foot of the Pharma CorSec building in east central Coronet. Bardan stepped off the vehicle with a slight unease in his gut. The reception was vast and clean, with a young Human doing her nails at her large desk. She lifted her painted eyelids to watch him walk in; he handed her his ID card, with a pseudonym of course.

"I have an appointment," he said with his best high class Coruscanti accent.

Coming off with his own name would raise too many eyebrows and he'd have the doors shut on his face. Smart as his parents were, they weren't called Jusik anymore but a simple change of name wasn't close to the average paranoia he was used to deal with.

"President Logar is ready to receive you, Mister Kama. Please proceed to the top floor."

He had his card back and nodded, too absorbed in his role to smile at the fact that she called him "Mister Backside".

The elevator shaft was directed towards the city center and shot to the sky at vertiginous speed, not helping his stomach. Bardan shut his eyes and faced the door, emptying his mind and setting the priority on his goal: to get answers and some help. He wasn't going to keep his charade up for long anyway.

The top floor was actually an office-suite with enough space to fit a freighter in the lounge area. The transparisteel ceiling allowed for sunlight to filter directly indoors in the way rich people liked to feel exposed and yet protected within the confines of their own dominion. He walked across the lobby and reached a large double door that he only assumed was the main office. He sensed a single presence inside, an old man that seemed in a busy mindset. There was nothing engaging about it, and for one last time he asked himself why he was doing it, would he really have to reveal his real identity and ruin this poor man's conscience.

He knew the security cams were on him but he still knocked to announce himself, his gut telling him to run off before it was too late.

"Come in."

It was a large, dark office which contrasted with the bright lobby. There were no windows and Bardan felt immediately trapped and confined. Edo Logar stood behind his glass desk and extended his hand to him.

"Welcome to Pharma CorSec, Mister Kama..."

Bardan looked at his hand, then at the man's face. Working with men that all had the same physical attributes had ingrained thorough observation skills in him. His hair was white, his nose thin and straight and his mouth was stretched in a permanent frown that translated authority and disappointment in others. He relaxed his fingers and shook the hand of the man that he fought hard not to find repulsive.

"Thank you," he managed to say in a breath, carelessly returning to his regular accent.

"Please have a seat. I hope you had a comfortable trip, these demonstrators really show no respect in anything."

Sitting on the chair that was set a little lower than he wanted Bardan nodded politely and switched to job mode.

"There's a few points from one of your projects I'd like to discuss."

"Oh, straight to business then. I like it. Which project?"

"The derivative anesthetic. I'm interested in certain applications of that product on particular subjects."

Logar meshed his fingers and squinted at him, the wrinkles around his eyes making him look like a predator. "Go on."

Bardan laid his hands on the armrests and fixed his gaze on his forehead while he wanted to avoid him. "I want to target the anesthetic's effect on midi-chlorians. And improve it."

"Really?" He was suspicious now, as expected. "What makes you think it could work?"

So it had already been experimented. Bardan took a mental note to visit the labs.

"Your past projects show that you don't see things halfway. My society is ready to finance the necessary expenses to see this through."

"Well funds aren't the issue here. You've seen it yourself: the Empire is setting a ban on all midi-chlorian research. Pharma CorSec has a galactic reputation..."

Bardan blinked slowly and sat motionless for a few seconds, thinking of a more forward way to barter.

"And here I was thinking I'd found a company with enough resources to back itself up." He stood and straightened his suit jacket. "You won't hear from me again."

"Wait, I may have spoken too soon. Please sit."

Bardan held his father's gaze, though he didn't even know the man. Genes did not matter when speaking of such affectionate terms. He just felt cornered by the sight of his own face thirty years older.

"Let me see your labs," he replied coldly. "I have samples that your technicians might find interesting."

"I can arrange that for you." Logar picked up a stylish comlink from his desk. "I just remembered that our genetics department would be able to present you their latest discoveries."

The offer was tempting. From what he recalled from Uthan's progress with age acceleration genes a little update on more or less legal breakthroughs could help his friends.

"I would like that, actually. When can I see them?"

Logar smiled and raised his link. "You're one call away from clearance. Though I must ask..."

Bardan's heart jumped; he resisted a sudden burst of honesty that would blow the entire plan up.

"Have we met before? You seem familiar."

It was twenty years ago. He was a little boy when he last saw his father, when a Jedi was dragging him out the apartment. It didn't matter if he knew his son was back, all that time was lost and there'd be nothing neither of them could do to make up for it. Bardan would get what he required from him eventually.

"No, we did not."

He nodded respectfully and lead himself out of the office, knowing that Logar was staring at him from across the room until the doors shut. He wanted to promise himself he'd never have to see him again but it was wishful thinking. He consulted his miniature handheld, bringing up the tower's schematics and selected the virology department. Ynga Logar was logged to her station.

Midi-chlorians and anesthetics supposedly weren't in her area of expertise, but he hoped she would hear him out anyway. It was for the sake of Kad and Aresu. If they were to grow up in a galaxy where they'd have to fake a low MC count he was going to give this quest a high priority.

She didn't have her own office. The Virology floor was lower in the building and didn't have a view, so most of its hallways were rather dark and he had to knock on a few doors to find Doctor Logar. A labtech directed him down the hall and into a common lab room. The lights were dimmed and there were biological refrigerators humming across the entire lab. His senses were drawn to one of the three people sitting there, manipulating their microscopes and centrifuge machines. It was a short woman in her fifties, her dyed reddish blond hair tied in a bun in the back of her head, wearing an old white coat on top of a beige outfit. She looked curiously at him through her glasses.

"Can I help you?"

Her voice was soft and kind, light years away from her husband's imposing inflections. Bardan opened his mouth to state his fabricated name but stopped and took a long breath.

"Is there some place we can talk?"

"We can talk here because every office is occupied. It's a wonder you got passed my obnoxious husband."

Even in the dim light he saw her tired-looking face and the lines around her eyes and mouth that suggested that she smiled a lot. He could imagine her in her twenties, crying and avoiding his gaze when he had asked her when he'd see her again. Bardan bit his lips and took a hesitant few steps forward.

"May I take you out for lunch then?"

The woman looked around to her lab partners and arched an eyebrow to him. "You aren't going to kidnap me, are you?"

He smiled and motioned to the door. "Just an hour, I promise you'll be back safely."

Once she got her purse and left her lab coat he had to resist telling her anything compromising on their way out of the building. It was difficult to avoid the main topics but he managed to keep his head level and politely followed her on foot to a diner a few streets away. It was small, quiet and cheap considering the neighborhood.

"So you're one of my husband's customers," she said biting in a vegetarian sandwich. "And you're interested in midi-chlorians?"

"I'm working on a temporary neutralizer for live subjects, like a--"

"Um! Sorry if I'm not entirely listening, honey. Nobody usually takes me out for anything and I just don't want to hear about work. Now, how about you tell me your name?"

He sat in amazed silence over his cup of caf and caught himself smiling. Finding out that at least one of his biological parents was a decent human being was a greater relief than he had imagined.

"My name is Bardan Jusik," he said softly, looking her in the eye.

She stared blankly and wiped her mouth with her napkin before pressing it against her lips. She started to scrutinize his face as if she was looking for something. Her light blue eyes started to brim with tears.

"You came back?" she said, her voice shaking with emotions. "You... _survived_?"

He let her touch his face and felt his own eyes tear, but it was all right. He nodded and a warm drop rolled down his cheek. His voice refused to cooperate and he took her hands in his, realizing how small and weak they looked.

"For so many years I wanted to tell you how sorry I was, and how much I missed you. But I couldn't. Your father changed our names to forget about you, to move on..." She sponged her face with the napkin. "I moved on, but we never had other children. I couldn't stand the thought of losing another child. Then, I heard the Jedi were being exterminated--"

"Mom." It sounded strange to his ears, yet so familiar; as if he had only been missing for a few months. "I left the Jedi Order two years ago. I have friends with me that need help. Two Force-sensitive children who could use some of that midi-chlorian damper Pharma CorSec made."

She nodded in approval. "Anything, tell me how I can help. We have a resort at Tyrena, you can all stay there for as long as you want. The Empire won't know, it's a small town."

"Thanks. When can we go?"

"I would take you there myself but, if you need me to get some samples of that product I'll have to cover my shift." She stood up and searched in her purse. "Here are the keys. It's the first house, east on the beach. Did you talk to your father?"

Getting up as well he took the key cards and froze for a moment. "I did talk to him but he doesn't know..."

She came over to wrap her arms around him. He held the small lady against his chest for a moment.

"Thank you so much for coming back," she whimpered. "What do you... _do_, now?"

Bounty hunting? Smuggling? Conning people? He didn't know which answer was more suitable.

"We'll catch up later. I really have to go now... my wife and kid are waiting for me."

Ynga covered her mouth in shock, but her sad eyes were radiating happiness when he left the diner. Hailing a cab he saw her through the glass panes, smiling at him with pride and joy. Bardan waved at her, suddenly feeling like he was seven years old. Only this time nobody was going to take him away.


	9. Chapter 9

**CorSec Headquarters, Coronet.  
**

It was just like home. The cubicle office desks, the coming and going of agents between units and floors, the heightened sense of purpose floating in the air. Even the damaged caf dispenser seemed familiar. Sulen payed close attention to the man standing behind the transparisteel panes of the captain's office and looked away as he walked out. In his forties, the man sported the same air of disgruntled confidence as any CorSec agent.

But Eclan Trudov was no detective, let alone a cop. With his graying hair cut short and brushed back, an unkempt beard and tired eyes no one would think the man had once sported brown robes and a lightsaber. He was one of the few Jedi Masters that survived the termination years ago, and somehow he was now living safely behind the charade that was his career at Corellian Security.

Sulen brought his eyes back down to his computer when Trudov passed by and towards the lifts. Using his blending skills to the fullest to appear as a mere temp, his passed training and career in the Coruscant Security Forces made wearing plain clothes and doing demeaning tasks easier. After he was done filing in daily rapports he did some cleaning around the water cooler and replaced the caf cartridges in the dispenser.

The floor progressively emptied as lunch time struck and Sulen made his way down to the refreshers. He checked that every booth was empty before locking himself inside.

TARGET LOCATED AND IDENTIFIED. STANDING BY.

He confirmed the message and sent it on the encrypted link to Jusik's private comms. Sulen waited a minute, then two. The datapad did not bleep for another ten when he had to leave the refreshers before it got suspicious. He received a reply when sitting in the mess hall.

COPY. STILL ON THE MOVE. DO NOT ENGAGE.

He rolled his eyes and accidentally gazed over a small group of black-clad police officers sitting a few tables to his left, their shoulder emblazons showing the Tactical Response Team's insignia. He could not spot Jusik among them however. Someone laid a metallic tray on the table and sat next to him with little care whether he liked it or not. Sulen directed his attention towards the entrance of the crowded mess hall, pretending to be brooding about personal matters.

Eclan Trudov liked having lunch alone, apparently, and was nowhere to be seen. Sulen's neighbor cleared his throat and poured himself a glass of water. His uniform sleeves were black. And he had neatly groomed blond hair. Only then did Sulen notice the combat vest, the pocketed belt and holsters. The man was rather short for a commando...

"What are you doing here?" he told Jusik, not without a hint of irritation. "I thought we agreed on the rendez-vous point..."

"I was hungry," replied the former Jedi. "Training does that to a body. Not like your comfy temp job."

He cringed. They should have swapped positions but having a Force-sensitive too close to Trudov was asking for a monumental scene. Sulen lifted his chin towards the rest of Tactical.

"How do you suppose you can shake them?" he mumbled quietly.

Eating like he had been starved for a week, Jusik took his time maybe as a mean to divert eavesdroppers from their exchange. "Will get to that when I will. Oh..."

Sulen followed his stare to someone leaving the room through the hissing doors. It was Trudov. According to his timetable the archive floor was his next destination. Jusik was given the same intel and did not seem worried.

"What if he sensed you?"

He faced the swift, but icy wrath of his blue eyes for a second before Jusik took a relaxed breath.

"Maybe he did."

The question felt out of place now. For three days it had been difficult to pinpoint Jusik whether it was in location or in general presence. Was it some sort of cloaking technique or a mind-diverting trick, Sulen was not sure yet. At least he felt reassured now, Vader might not have to kill them both in a near future.

If he had known this three days ago, then maybe he would have taken different precautions. But orders were orders, especially when coming from a Sith lord.

*

**Tyrena Beach, three days ago.  
**

The holo-image of a white-clad soldier flickered on the outdoor table. Sitting on the deck of the beach house, Runa refrained from sighing while listening to her brother talk.

"You worked hard doing everything you could to escape this: settling down, having kids. How ironic."

She shrugged with a smile. "I still get to kick ass while at it, so that's well worth the sacrifices. And you should see her someday because she could use an uncle figure."

Aresu was busying herself on the shore below, picking up sea shells. Devik nodded a few times.

"I can imagine that you're happy then. You had the right call marrying Bardan I think, though I don't understand the hurry." He spun his helmet between his black-gloved hands while letting himself get distracted by something outside the holo field. "We're due out to patrol the desert with the company. Ori's watching over my spot in the transporter. I should go..."

Something pinched at her chest, and Runa knew it was the mention of his duty. _His _calling. His contained cheerful posture told her that now was not the moment to question why he was still there. They had already grown apart - in less than a month – and she couldn't begin to imagine how she could explain that to their parents.

She swallowed her bitter remarks. "Watch out for yourself over there, Dev."

"Same goes for you," he said. "I'll probably comm you again in a few days. Say hello to Bardan for me."

The shape of the Stormtrooper with her brother's face disappeared and she saw the silhouette of her husband, jogging barefooted along the shoreline. She adjusted the fit of her vest around herself thinking of getting into shape, someday. If she looked around idly and ignored the few ships in the sky it was possibly the first moment of complete peace she'd had in a long time. Letting her mind drift farther it was easy to forget that they were hiding or running away.

Bardan jogged up the hill and climbed up the deck, panting. She handed him a glass of water.

"Careful there," she said. "You could become fit and healthy if you keep this up."

He smiled back at her and sat on the other lounging chair, tugging air into his sweaty shirt. "I have to make my efforts look believable."

"Oh, you got _me_ convinced."

"If only _that_ applied to what I'll have to do tomorrow..." He took a long sip of water and kept silent as if shy about his prowesses in bed. "Let's just hope Korrado holds his end of the deal."

Runa kept an eye on Aresu, still wandering on the strand. "Make sure he does. I don't want to leave thinking there's a traitor waiting to hand your head on a plate to Vader."

He looked over at her and reached across the table to touch her hand. It sent a shiver down her spine; she let the feeling take her back to the refreshers earlier that day when they'd had nothing better to do but to enjoy some privacy. Then the news of that CorSec operation came in and completely ruined the moment. Bardan looked distracted again.

"If he does turn against me," he thought out loud, "then I'd have a chance to save you."

"Well, didn't we just argue about this? We have to get Aresu out of his reach. So... we either live separately or die together..."

Sighing at the sky he got up and pulled her to him. "I like when you get all dramatic."

"Aren't you supposed to be more of a practical man," she spoke back, merely inches away from his face.

"Well I could always use some more exercising," he purred, clearly defining his intentions by directing her hand beneath his waistband and into his trousers.

"So what now," she said, amused. "I thought you weren't going to play with your saber in public anymore."

He laughed and lost his composure; Runa liked that they'd grown comfortable enough not to care about appearances. The only problem was Aresu who could not be locked in for safety while they were fooling around. But those were Bardan's sometimes irrational compulsions that she had to look out for.

"Another time," she said, gently pushing him away and fought against his disappointed expression. "Gives you something to look forward to. And survive."

"I know," he said, his voice full of mixed emotions and he hugged her tightly, making it hard to breathe. "One day this will be all over and we can be happy together."

"Well..." She hesitated. "You don't have to cry over me, it's not like I'll be gone forever."

He let her go to rub his eyes with the back of his hand. "It's not that. I know it's stupid but I have to fix this. All that's happened so far was my fault and I want to make it up to you." He caught his breath. "You deserve better than this. So if I fail here, you can go back home to your friends and family."

_Home_. The word brought her to a place and time where all that had happened in the last weeks would've been a dream. Getting back to her job, her apartment and the old routine would certainly make him seem like one of the many fantasies she used to have.

"Now I really don't want to go. You'd make a terrible life coach."

Eventually the night came with the time to say their goodbyes at the spaceport. Holding her bag containing her armor and the rest of her belongings she let go of his hand to buy the tickets to Ord Mantell.

"You're lucky these don't require identification," said Aresu in her back. "I would have taken a detour though."

"We can't afford the odds of a high jack in an unknown system..." Runa turned and gave her the boarding pass.

"Stay with the crowds," suggested Bardan. "And don't separate. I'm counting on you, _Ares'ika_."

She nodded firmly to him and started making her way towards the shuttles. Runa followed with Bardan in her trail.

"Promise me you won't get back with an old school crush or anything," he joked.

The line of passengers slowed them down and Aresu was already unpacking her datapad to browse the HoloNet. Bardan stood beside them, slipping his hand into Runa's but she kept her smile to herself. While _abandoning_ him might have been a scary decision he made the pain bearable by his presence. For a moment she felt confident that he'd be in her heart along the way.

"Ticket, please."

The protocol droid scanned each passenger's pass before they could walk up the ship's boarding ramp. Aresu kept hers ready and Runa felt something warm in the small of her back.

"Bardan?"

His face looked concerned, if not full-blown shocked as he felt her body. She sought an answer out of him but, mouth gaping, he hesitated. A bit too long.

"You're scaring me," she said in a tone that meant she wasn't joking. "What's going on?"

He revised his stance and swallowed hard before giving her a reply. "I'm-... I'm sorry, Runa."

"Ticket, please."

She turned away from the droid and grabbed Aresu's hand to step out of the line, determined to cancel the trip if need be.

"Will you just tell me what's the matter with--"

"You're pregnant."

"What?!"

"You're pre--"

"_I heard you the first time!_" she hissed.

Aresu laid a hand on her stomach and nodded after a few seconds. "He's right," she said. "And it's a girl."

Bardan and Runa both looked at her furiously and she just shrugged them off, going back to her datapad.

She turned back to him. "How? Why now?"

Confused and helpless, he looked like he was going to cry again. "It just _happened..._ I should have been more careful."

"Oh, crap."

Her sudden realization wasn't as she had expected how this day would come. All she knew was that neither of them had wanted it, they already _had_ a child and she did not feel ready to bear one.

It was the end of the line and the last of the passengers boarded the transport.

"Ticket, please," repeated the droid.

Runa felt Bardan's hands holding her shoulders and she looked into his blue eyes. Her mind drifted and she wondered if their child would have the same.

"We'll talk about it later," he said.

"But what if--"

He hugged and kissed her before she could word out her thoughts – awful thoughts. Now that it was very real she couldn't even begin to visualize the process...

Aresu dragged her on towards the ship and they presented their passes. Runa turned around to give one last look at Bardan, her _friend_, unable to keep her brain from working the maths.

_What did you do to me..._

The transporter took off and soon Tyrena was a bright patch of street lights and gardens on the southern coast. She wondered if she would miss it, although she never took the time to see the city. Something told her she'd still have another chance.

*

**CorSec Training Facility, two days ago.  
**

Thirty-eight... Thirty-nine...

He let his mind drift a second at a time between sit-ups but each memory of her, every word that still rang in his head made him lose focus and the pain grew stronger. The instructor with his datapad was watching over his progress and, after fifty he had to move to the next exercise.

Bardan got to his feet and ran down the trail to the chin-up bar.

_What did you do to her?_

He lost his grip on the bar and fell rather hard against the floor. His left knee complained a little but he masked the pain with his Jedi training and resumed the exercise. This time there was no more room for Runa, just his goal: pass the tests, join the CorSec Tactical Response Team and blend in until he could assassinate one of the detectives at the headquarters.

He finished at a shooting test with mobile targets. Earlier that morning he had studied a series of holovids describing tactical insertions and close-quarter combat situations. Actually he never slept that night.

The holo images that appeared inside the labyrinth represented typical targets or obvious civilians – children, frightened women – that disqualified him if they were shot. One door opened brutally and he pointed his A280 rifle at the image of an elderly man that gasped in terror.

Part of the Jedi training was to _sense_ people's intentions before they even stepped out in the open but for that to work they had to be alive. In this exercise Bardan doubled his caution, relying on his eyes only to judge whether something, _someone_, should live or die.

Six enemies properly shot by the end of the training house and Bardan made his way out to deposit his weapon and protective visor.

"Impressive results, Agent Allyn Denal." One of the recruiting officers appeared to be the team sergeant. "Take ten and meet me in the briefing room."

Calculating his time left under the shower her image struck him unexpectedly: furious, shocked and strangely detached. Then the soothing light of the unborn child within her, already sparkling brightly in the Force, surely bound to become as strong and determined as her mother. It had happened, there was no turning back. Even if they aborted the pregnancy it would crush them both and nothing would ever be the same.

Bardan regulated his breathing and finished cleaning to equip the black fatigues with his fake name on it. Moving on to his next step, the interview that would get him into the team or not, he vaguely remembered of Devik when he was supposed to infiltrate an imperial base. The thought eased his mind and gave him the necessary courage he needed to keep a straight face.

The team's instructor and sergeant was of average build, mid-forties and kept a balding head shaved. Bardan had to get the same crew-cut regulation beforehand to fit his back-story.

"So I understand you've worked a long time off world," Sergeant Kirsak said, sitting casually at the corner of the glass table. "Your file here says you wish to serve closer to home and protect your fellow citizen – now, tell me." He leaned forward with his hands meshed. "You're on a field call. You found a vantage point on a hostage situation, your teammates count on you to save this poor victim's life, someone you don't know, a _fellow citizen_. Every second counts. Then all of the sudden you hear a familiar voice, or recognize a vehicle in the distance. It's your mother, she is sick. Or your wife going into labor..."

Bardan lowered his brow, surprised that he had to use that example.

"...but you have to keep your mind on the job. What do you do, son?"

Respecting a short lapse before answering, Bardan took a breath, hands idly tapping the tabletop.

"Take your time," said Kirsak, smiling kindly.

"The hostage could be anyone's mother or wife so... I have to deal with the task at hand before looking into things that do not require my immediate assistance."

The sergeant looked him intently before nodding.

"You can place events on a priority list, that's good. On a calm mindset it always works. But out there, when one mistake means death, can you really set your private life aside while you weren't really used to proximity work? This is what I want to know, Allyn. A lot of my men fail after a month of service because they didn't know themselves on the field."

He thought back in time when "field work" meant traveling light-years everyday, trying to keep hundreds of troopers up to date with objectives and bringing them news when there were any. Sometimes he'd had to give more time and effort to solve problems but he didn't mind the self-sacrificing. Back then, there had been no wife or child waiting for him to come home. The cause and the principles used to be everything to him.

Sergeant Kirsak leaned back in his chair and checked his wrist chrono.

"It's never an easy question to ask ourselves, son. Even after years of experience you never know what's going to get to you. It says in your file that you're single, that means no attachments and you might not feel too concerned for the moment--"

"There is someone," Bardan blurted out on a whim, "but she lives halfway across the galaxy."

Kirsak smiled again. "Long distance thing, then?"

"We trust each other." He felt himself smiling stupidly while he'd almost cry over Runa a few moments earlier. Talking probably wasn't such a bad thing after all.

"That's good too. Gives you something to fight for."

Bardan nodded thoughtfully. "We have to find our ways to cope."

"I wish it was easy for everyone." He stood and extended his open hand. "We like to know each other on the team and I had to make sure you knew where you're headed. Welcome aboard, Allyn."

He shook his hand and immediately sensed the good emanating from Kirsak while something deep inside caused a lot of pain in his soul. A torn marriage, children too long unseen and solitude. Suddenly he did not feel so different and almost wanted to share more of his experience but restrained himself. Bardan thanked him and walked out of the room to get his things into the staff locker room.

It was an easy place to get used to and he let the thought of actually working here settle in his mind. Of course once Trudov was dead staying was out of the question. His unavoidable departure would be more painful than he'd predicted.

*****

**CorSec Headquarters, present time.  
**

The alarm went off and the entire floor seemed to shake as all lockers opened and closed at various intervals, heavy boots ran down the hallways and the sounds of clips and straps intensified the reality of the purpose they all shared.

Bardan jogged along with the group of men and women, adjusting the communication device around his ear and making sure nothing was detaching itself from his combat vest. The armor plates were a little tight, perhaps the measurements were fine but the few weeks spent on his wife's food had probably changed that. Thankfully the black battle dress uniform was loose-fitting to provide maximal movement.

It was a multiple hostage situation, on the investigation floor which meant lots of rooms, very small operating margins and plenty of collateral casualties if anyone misfired. Kirsak led the seven-manned team up the building, himself clad in the same combat gear minus the weapons and he interacted with the people in charge.

"We're going to need a command post so we can work with the first responders." He motioned to one tall man. "Clear a perimeter around the the windows on this aisle, I don't want any orderlies getting stuck in the hallways. And make sure everybody respects the lock-down. Denal, with me."

Bardan made his way between the six other, real commandos who eyed him cautiously and followed Kirsak across the large room of cubicle desks. The agents here did not seem to pay mind to him in particular, but showed much disdain towards the weapon he was carrying. The first on site security personnel directed them towards a transparisteel sealed room in a corner of the floor. The panes were tinted and set to full opacity and the doors were locked.

"The cams were destroyed and the gunman won't negotiate. At least he chose not to trap the captain on his lunch break."

"Any idea who he is?"

"That new guy, Ris Mangel," replied the officer. "Some caf-dispensing temp we hired last week."

"Okay, I'm going to need a picture and full history on him."

"No offense, sir, but we should just blow the ceiling and smoke the room. Flush them out, you know?"

Kirsak rubbed his chin with his gloved hands. "Hm, too dangerous. If he works here he knows how we think too. Just let me talk to him."

The man shrugged. "Alright, but we did that already. You're wasting time..."

The sergeant leaned against the glass panel and rapped his knuckles at the door.

"Ris, this is Sergeant Kirsak from the Tactical Response Team. I was told that there is something you want, but we need to talk about that. What do you think?"

They waited a few seconds. Bardan stood a few steps away from the door, weapon ready.

"I don't want to chat!" yelled a voice through the door. Korrado's voice, and he was shouting very loudly. "I just want an hour without being disturbed, okay?"

Whatever he was doing, he was good at acting crazy. Remembering his unofficial briefing Bardan had to use that one hour to convince Kirsak to get in at one point.

"I hear you, Ris. But first I'm going to need a guarantee that the people with you will be safe. Can you promise me that, son?"

"Yes."

"How many are they?"

"Five."

Kirsak was then handed a pad with the files of the hostages, and one with Korrado's alias. He resumed talking in his briefing tone.

"Alright, guys. What we have here is one hour of tension inside that room. That means thirty minutes tops until we have to engage or extract at least one hostage. Mister Mangel here is using decoys, they have to be released or else this could turn sour for him. He doesn't have a file so we know he's not a killer. Let's not come to that."

One of the commandos spoke in the comm. "If this is personal revenge he must have planned it for weeks. I wouldn't underestimate him."

"Good point, Nylo. What does this inspire you, Allyn?"

Bardan snapped to and thought of something clever to say. "After something like this he is done, professionally. I think he's got nothing left to lose."

"You mean we could slot him if that meant solving the problem?"

"I _meant_ that after this hour he could kill everyone in this room, himself included. We need to find his motives."

Kirsak nodded sharply at the team. "Let's get some alternate surveillance running."

He ran over the list of hostage and Eclan Trudov's file showed up, just as expected. Bardan tried not to peek too suspiciously over Kirsak's shoulder yet demonstrated genuine interest. Besides knowing what was going on inside, he couldn't help but sense the tensions and fears of the various people being held against their will. But he could not sense Trudov. They were both using the same cloaking trick.

Bardan revised his position facing the door and held his rifle more comfortably from his armor webbing.

"Okay, Ris," said Kirsak, continuing the negotiations. "I'm going to ask you to release one person. Because we all have a job, and mine is to make sure everybody gets home safely. In exchange I'll help you get what you want. You help me and I help you, how does that sound?"

A few silent seconds passed. Then a blaster shot behind the door.

"Ris, what's going on in there!"

The door slid open and suddenly the whole of Tactical was stacked to enter the room. Bardan squeezed in but Korrado was nowhere to be found, except...

Eclan Trudov was standing in the middle with a pistol in his hand, still pointing at the inert body of the "temp" on the floor. Someone in black tackled Trudov and the weapon got confiscated from him. The former Jedi Master let himself subdued without a word.

"Don't move! Let's see some hands!" shouted a commando, ready to cuff him.

Bardan saw to the remaining four people sitting on the ground, in state of shock, and got them to leave the room one by one. Trudov now being placed in custody walked out with his eyes down as if he knew what was really happening.

Kirsak, arms crossed against his combat vest, seemed annoyed and saddened. He put a knee down to inspect Korrado's body, but seeing the charred flesh that was the wound in his head there was nothing to do about it. Even Bardan felt strangely angered.

"He had nothing to lose, right?" sarcastically said the sergeant.

The paramedics arrived to clean up the scene and soon every office worker and agent would be able to get back to their daily occupations.

With Trudov in detention it was investigation time and the questioning had to be left to better qualified personnel while Tactical stepped back, having resolved the conflict. Bardan waited a moment in the locker room until everyone was done stowing their equipment back on their shelves. Nobody asked him anything, respecting his quiet time. But he had different things in mind.

It was too soon to march down there and just kill Trudov. It wasn't the Jedi way and it wasn't fair. Bardan knew those things but cared more about coming out of there alive. He'd have to wait another day.

"Hey, Denal." It was the tall one from the team. "We're going for a few drinks after duty tonight, are you in?"

He let a smile form on his face and welcomed the offer. "Sure."


	10. Chapter 10

_Hey guys! I know only very few of you loyal readers have kept up so far but just as a side-note and warning: _

_First, you may disagree with the way I'm handling the insanely controversial theme that is abortion. I tried very hard not to let my own ideas transpire into my characters' opinions. There are other upsetting concepts later on, so if you think that this story is going too far, feel free to express yourself by posting a review!_

_And secondly, I had to mention something rather spoiling about an event that occured in_ Republic Commando: Order 66. _It's rather a major spoiler so if you haven't read it yet, you can skip that small paragraph (the preceeding hint is obvious)._

_I don't want to ruin the story for you any more so that will be all for this author's note. Enjoy this 10th chapter!_

_***  
_

**Ord Mantell, day 8. **

He blasted the door lock open with a miniature charge, caring very little about the racket and made his way into the apartment, pistol out. The panicky Gran was trying to hide inside a clothing cabinet but his prominent backside kept the door from closing.

Runa proceeded silently into the room and without hesitation, stepping around the mess of discarded food and broken furniture, the white and lilac _beskar'gam _looking like a second skin on her now.

"We don't want to harm you," Biran said, "just tell us where the money is."

The thief whimpered in the closet but didn't show intentions to come out.

"If I tell you who took it will you leave?"

Sighing aloud to make a point, he pulled the door open and dragged the Gran out. He fell comically and it was painful to watch him get to his feet. They had to keep focusing on either of his three eyes as well.

"Okay, okay!" he raised his six-fingered hands up. "It's not here, I placed it in a separate bank account. You can have it if you let me go. It's a lot of money!"

Biran caught a glimpse of his daughter looking at him tentatively. It was typical newbie recklessness, he ignored her.

"Let's get you to a cash dispenser then."

It was better for the subject not to know what was going to happen to them in the end. With Runa the job seemed a lot easier even if it didn't require any special use of force, just having numbers on his side sped things up. Not to mention the matching armors that screamed "militia" for added threat.

On their trip down to the streets Biran used the private link to chat with Runa. "See? Pretty easy stuff. All you have to do is never show your cards, just like in a game."

"Sure seems simple once you figured out how to track them down," she replied flatly.

"You'll do the talk next time," he said, with a smile at the prospect. "You'll be surprised."

There was a short silence on her part. "Looking forward to it."

She certainly had lots on her mind, so mentioning anything in the future, possibilities, plans... all would remind her that Jusik might not return as promised. Biran still needed to adjust to the idea of them together but after all, every female _mando _needed to be paired up or married by that age. The difference always seemed to hit harder when it happened to you, especially when there was a former Jedi involved.

The Gran nervously punched his codes in the credit machine while they waited patiently.

"You look in good shape," he tried again, attempting conversation to feel less awkward. "Your mother worried a lot about you, but you could guess that."

Again that silence. "I'm sorry I couldn't get around to contact you."

The credits started flowing and they had to contain the Gran in case he'd make a run for it with the money.

He had a tight grip on his upper arm. "Alright, time to pay your dues."

"Hey! That's not what we agreed!"

They shoved him into a speeder. Runa stood outside and looked Biran in the visor. It was difficult to see her as the docile, gentle girl she actually was when she wore that mask too but something struck him as different about her now. Normally she would have been zealous about catching her first bounty with her father, now she seemed... distant.

"I thought about going back to my place for a couple of days," she said. "Get my stuff sorted, so to speak."

"Don't you have everything you need back home?"

"Just some time alone." Holstering her pistol she threw a look around the street. "Will you watch over Aresu for me?"

"Of course." He knew about the young Padawan and didn't enjoy the idea of having yet another Jedi in his surroundings. Besides the kid could use some structure and discipline too if she were to live under the constant threat of the Empire. "Are you okay, _ad'ika_?"

He waited for her to muster the courage to give him an answer, ignoring the captive inside the vehicle.

"It's something I'd rather discuss while Bardan's here."

"Sounds fair." He padded her shoulder. "You remember when I said never to trust a Jedi?"

"How could I forget."

"Bardan and I have been talking lately, something I wasn't expecting since I thought you two had to lay low... He's all right, Runa. The things he said, what he did was worthy of a _mando'ad_. So I guess I was wrong about him."

Her shoulders slightly dropped and she nodded. "Thank you for telling me. It means a lot."

"Perhaps I should also tell you that he asked me permission to marry you."

She froze and even her breathing stopped. "He did?"

"It was long overdue if I understood right," he chuckled. "So I gave him my approval."

Despite the layers of armor and weaponry she came over and hugged him, banging her helmet against his.

"I'll try to be home tonight."

And she strode on down the sidewalks without looking over her shoulder, soon blending in the crowds of pedestrians. Biran got in the speeder and had to listen to a whining Gran on the backseat.

"What was that all about?"

He peered into the rear view mirror before replying, his voice full of constricted emotions. "When your kids start growing up you'll understand."

"You have _kids_?"

It was the common reaction towards the fact that Mandalorians were family people too. Biran started the engine.

"Not ashamed of it."

The three-eyed thief snorted. "If you teach them to be scum like you, I suppose not."

It hurt, surprisingly. Biran took a sharp turn around a corner and decided that he wouldn't care what happened to the Gran after he got the reward.

His thoughts went to Devik and what kind of children he'd raise. The last image of his son was that of a young man, so strong and full of life. To think that he'd given up on lifelong plans to become an independent, smart warrior among his family was appalling. Biran would have suspected Runa to be the type to follow under a greater authority, to feel useful in a big structure with a chain of command. Perhaps Bardan had changed that about her.

It was painful because he wasn't sure he knew his kids in the first place.

*

She entered the store and silence settled as if there was a power surge and eyes raised up from the shelves. A cleaning droid emitted a squeaking whistle before cowering down an alley, apparently able to associate combat suits, armor and weaponry with the large concept of danger. The cashier at the other end of the shop looked very alarmed and couldn't keep his large lips from trembling. If he were any more scared he would have hidden under the counter.

Runa had to show her gloved-hands up to prove her peaceful intentions. "Just want to buy a couple things." And walked down the alleys of the drug store.

Of course among the millions of tags, names and categories she couldn't find a simple "early pregnancy test" and once she spotted the right shelf, there were just too many to pick from. She settled for the one with the less flashy-colored package and gathered her courage to cash it in.

The Sullustean shopkeeper stared at her for a second too long, then down at the item, and finally seemed to want to ignore her. The T-visor always produced that kind of reaction from people, as if they felt pressured by it in some way. She paid for the item and found her way out, slightly faster than the way she came in.

It was a chemical test and it wasn't completely reliable, still she needed to have some kind of outside opinion. While waiting for the result she cleaned around her two-room apartment.

No child could be raised in such a small home. It wasn't a home, it was a hideaway, a place to spend the night at best. Bills piled up in the inbox of the structure administration panel. She could as well declare herself dead to the authorities and never come back. She would have to have that cleared with the clinic...

That was another thing. She opened a file from her job and wasn't shocked to read a warning letter. The next one was telling her that, due to a prolonged and unjustified absence she was fired from her position as a medical first responder. That kind of hurt, she'd worked hard to get that job.

Her wrist timer bleeped. Reluctantly she went to the table in the living room and found the test tube. Runa didn't want to believe what Bardan and Aresu had sensed. There was still a slim chance that they had tried to pull a prank on her.

The test was positive.

It was strange and still rather unreal, yet she didn't feel any different. Obviously she _became_ different from when she first left Ord Mantell, a month ago, switching diets, becoming more active mentally, physically. And she had started sleeping with someone. Completely out of phase with reality it had never occurred to her that such ordinary accidents could happen.

_You stupid, stupid girl_.

Runa wanted to throw the tube into the trash compactor but held up, realizing that it was her genetic signature still on there and someone might get curious about a discarded pregnancy test. She would have to dispose of it more safely.

It had been almost twenty hours since it happened, a medicated solution would be the simple option right then and waiting would only complicate the matter. Soon her hormones would kick in and she might actually _want_ it. No, she wasn't going to use an unborn baby as a substitute for the one she loved. Bardan would come back – alive – he wasn't a risk-taker or stupid. He would've told her to do what was best for all of them and not base her decision on emotions or philosophies.

She ran back to the drug store without a single clue on whether she'd find the right medicine – as if it actually needed to _cure_ anything – then it struck her that an embryo with Force powers could be tougher than most. Was it all worth the hassle? Maybe it could already _speak _to her.

"I need help," she told the Sullustean cashier who stared with his huge black eyes.

"Would you like a different pregnancy test?"

"No, I know I'm pregnant." She took a long breath and tried to calm herself. _You can do this, he doesn't know you. Soon it will all be over._ "And I have to terminate it."

*

**Coronet, day 9**

Bardan woke up in a bed he didn't know, with a foul taste in his mouth and a pulsing headache. Someone came over to him as he sat up, feeling muscle pain and a full bladder.

"Rise and shine, new guy."

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes he saw the slim figure of a young woman he had talked to the other night. Kyra – if he was correct – was the expert sharpshooter in the team. A sudden feeling of nausea punched at his stomach.

"What—" he began, coming to his senses. "Where am I?"

Kyra threw a Tactical uniform at him and walked away, herself already dressed up and ready for work. "In _my_ bed, don't you remember that I took the couch? Now get up."

She seemed irritated, which Bardan took as good news for him. Hurriedly slipping into his black combat uniform he realized that even sober he hadn't a single clue where he was supposed to stay in Coronet. Something that he should have taken care of if he hadn't wasted time over other things.

"I don't even remember drinking that much."

The girl – she was probably Runa's age, but he refused to compare – drove him down the streets in her open speeder, long locks of blond hair floating in the wind.

"I guess I'm to blame for that," she replied flatly. "You just kept going on and on about your wife, had to shut you up and get your mind off her. Obviously it worked _too_ well."

"_Shab_." He rubbed his jaw and wished he could rewind the last ten hours to just sit himself in a hotel room.

Kyra looked him briefly. "What did you say?"

"Nothing." Again that punch in the stomach. "So, nothing happened that I might regret?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Denal. After you puked and fainted in the gutter I volunteered to pick you up and get you to a nice, warm bed. I'm just glad you were too phased to even realize I was female."

"Oh. Well in that case I'm very sorry."

She parked her speeder on a terrace designed for vehicles. "It happens. But after what I saw last night I have to ask. Why did you even take the job?"

The real answer was too much to bear, he had to rely on his training to put a lid on his feelings.

"Because I believe in a greater good and I want to protect the innocent."

"Come on... You're such a nice guy with a few drinks in you." She smirked at him.

Once they were in the building and on their way to the changing rooms he took a long breath and sighed tiredly.

"Alright, the boring truth," he said with a light cynical tone, "is that I'm not sure I want to stay here for long. Never liked desk jobs and this is all I can do."

"You mean _shooting people_?"

He tried smirking but ended up frowning. "That's quite reductive."

"Trust the expert," she shrugged. "But if you love your girl so much, you don't belong here."

They were alone in the locker room, apparently in earlier than the rest of the team. Bardan checked his personal locker and made sure the second compartment within was still securely closed. He grabbed his belts and went to the weapon room to get his CorSec standard issue blaster rifle for no apparent reason. Sometimes he did things according to intuition and his old training would encourage him in that direction. Ultimately though, he'd have to stop doing that undercover.

"You're not supposed to carry that around, silly." Kyra shot him a suspicious glance. "Put it back."

The sirens yelled and red lights blinked all around. Bardan wanted to smile and boast about his abilities then was reminded that he wasn't in friendly territory and he couldn't act or talk freely. Runa would have brightened him up with a joke or given him focus to get on with the objective. But she wasn't there and he missed her. Even the loud alarms or running down the halls with fully geared Tactical couldn't distract him from the memory of her and Aresu when they were happily playing on the beach.

An hour later, at the central nature park in Coronet where people would sit and eat lunch. Or, overlooking the park and aiming down. Position taken on one of the surrounding buildings together with another sniper team on different vantage points, the lock was on a young male Twi'lek in the park, holding a suspicious device in one hand and a repeating blaster in the other. Kirsak was speaking to him down there, trying to find out his motives, who he was and how he could get everybody to go home safely. He could be heard on Tactical's link.

Bardan's elbows started complaining, unaccustomed to laying in prone for so long. He limited the shaking in his gloved fingers by relaxing his respiration, fighting the numbness creeping up his arms.

"Looks like you did this all your life," said Kyra's voice right beside him. She had taken the spotting position, looking down her own scope. "Of course I'm not expecting you to try and impress me..."

She had asked to team up with him. Her almost white blond hair was tied in a neat pony tail under her black cap, smiling lightly against the headstock of the weapon. He found it reminiscent of another time and place where Runa had been doing some shooting, but her hair was long back then. They were barely becoming friends at that time. The Twi'lek turned thirty degrees and he adjusted his aim. A stronger magnification showed that the man carried explosives in his vest.

"People sure aren't ready for the Empire," Kyra thought out loud. "Wouldn't be surprised if every civvie would go separatist tomorrow."

"And they'd be counting on you to defend them against the Imperial Army."

"You mean _us_, right?"

"Oh... Sure. I was talking generally."

"Whatever happened to _protect the innocent_, then?"

Kirsak's voice cracked in their comms. "This one's a no-go, we need options."

Bardan took a short breath, blinked and waited a second for his sight to focus back on the target. "I got the solution," he transmitted back to Kirsak.

The key was to knock the detonator out of his hand before he could contract his fingers on it. No one could aim that precisely at such distance.

"Perimeter's clear but he could still create a lot of mess. Are you sure about it?

"Positive, Sarge."

"Then go for it, Allyn."

_Just pretend that's your real name._

Already in a state of semi-trance, projecting his will towards the individual a hundred meters down was simple as flicking a light switch. Bardan pressed gently on the trigger. The ion bolt discharged along a straight trajectory towards the Twi'lek's head and Bardan watched the palm-sized detonator fly off a micro-second too soon.

It didn't matter, they could watch the holo recording a thousand times to understand what happened and he'd be long gone.

"Like I said, that's your thing. Shooting people."

Kyra slapped his back supportively as they wrapped it up and when to the CorSec transport. A few others nodded at him, congratulated his shot. Others ignored him as they passed by. But all of this didn't matter in the end. They weren't his friends, he wasn't actually part of their team and he wasn't supposed to be there.

Kirsak, leaning against the driver's door tipped his cap as he walked by.

"Outstanding performance, kid."

Bardan nodded at him, smiling but not too much.

"They really teach you to be that good in a space station?"

There it was, the questioning. Carefully measuring his voice to pick an explanation; it was hard not to tell the truth.

"I practiced in zero gravity," he answered, letting his breath shake slightly. "Maybe it helped, or I was very lucky."

"Indeed you were." Kirsak extended a gloved hand to take his in a firm grip. "This whole park could have blown up had he not dropped the det."

He returned to his rented speeder after duty hours that night, browsing his datapad to seek for the whereabouts of his next target. Trudov was registered in a building south east of the center, quite a long walk from the HQ. The job could be done quickly if he was careful and he'd be with Runa in no time. He longed for a peaceful moment with her if only to talk about their unborn child. While he loved the idea of having a baby with her it was still a Force beacon for Vader and his hired assassins all around the galaxy.

Drops of water fell on his windshield. Then three. It was pouring after a minute.

A loud knock made him startle.

"Hey!"

Looking to his left he saw a very cheerful Kyra through his window pane, in light grey and blue civilian clothes, wet hair flowing around her neck. She giggled at him as he rolled the window down.

"Care to give me a ride? My speeder has a big hole in the roof."

Smiling at the reference to the open-top vehicle he unlocked the passenger door and waited for her to get in before powering the engines.

"Quite the weather here," he commented.

"This is excitement for you, space boy." She ruffled her golden locks and looked at the device on his lap. "What got you so fascinated?"

"Oh." _Lie to her. She's not your friend._ "Upsetting cash flow. Got to check this with the bank in the morning."

He took the speeder to the main axis and up north where he believed she had taken him the other night. Rain drops slid up the windshield and the whole city was a labyrinth of smog, blurry lights and grey towers.

"Take a left to Commerce District," she notified before seeking his eyes. "If you got credit problems you can always stay at my place for a couple weeks... sort yourself out and wait for your paycheck."

"A generous offer but I wouldn't be able to pay you back."

She smiled. "It's a friendly deal."

Bardan made a point of looking at her sideways. "I can't accept it."

"You know," her tone hardened, she was getting angry, "you're too good for someone who flew light-years away from you. She should feel ashamed."

"And your opinion matters because...?"

She returned his glare in defiance. "That's my street."

He parked the vehicle between other speeders along the sidewalk and waited. Kyra straightened up the collar on her jacket.

"So when are you planning to leave us?"

It all depended on tonight, if Trudov was still alive then he'd need to stay with Tactical but he was going to make sure he wouldn't miss. He had the weapon sitting on the backseat, under his coat. Yes, he was already gone.

Kyra, deep blue eyes riveted on him, waited. Of course answering meant to start a whole discussion about it. He just wished she'd step out of the speeder.

She eased herself closer in her seat and directed his face towards hers. Her thin fingers brushed his cheek as she tasted his lips. Parting them slightly, he was curious to know how it felt like, and immediately regretted responding. When he was younger he'd wished for something like this to happen but now... he felt nothing; just a stranger's mouth, and a scent he wasn't used to. For some reason he thought about Runa. Hers had a delicate hint of lime.

"Come home with me," she sighed, clinging to his hand.

She was a beautiful, petite, athletic woman with hair of gold and blue eyes – just like his. Fierce, witty and joyful, she would have been someone he'd dreamed of. However, a much different woman had filled that spot. She was no warrior and yet Runa was fighting since the very day he met her, against her weaknesses, against enemies, adapting to an ever-changing lifestyle, coping with business she couldn't completely understand. Bardan sometimes wondered if she'd make the same choices if they had never met. Now she was pregnant with his Force-sensitive child, another dangerous responsibility she had to carry alone.

He let a moment pass, listening to the rain drumming on the rooftop. "You should go now."

It took her a while to process the order and she left with a disapproving look on her face. He didn't watch her walk down to her building and wasn't going to think about the kiss. One thing preoccupied him now and that was Runa's safety. Next stop was Tyrena to retrieve his gear and his ship. By the time he got back it would be night time and Trudov would be home too.

It was good to be in armor again. Not only did it keep him dry in the rain but it seemed to make his doubts and worries less significant, the weight of every _beskar_ plate and weapon reminded him of his duty.

Trudov was a careful man, switching directions irregularly, looking over his shoulder when he walked and using different apparel each time he switched buildings or vehicles. After he got out of a diner to pick up food he had a hat on, then when he got out of the public transports to walk home he had a different colored-coat. The man even had a little limp at times. One thing though, Bardan could sense him miles away. Maybe the former Jedi Master didn't suspect other Force users to be after him. Regardless, Bardan took his own precautions and made his way to the man's apartment minutes before he got there himself.

There was no plan in his mind, no method. He had taken a stranger's life that day, at a safe distance and without a fight – he had to, the man had a bomb for Force's sake. Fencing in the Jedi training had probably molded his mind around fairness, to give the enemy a chance to defend itself otherwise it was an execution. Bardan felt comfortable with the idea, it felt _honorable_. Yet he stood in the Jedi Master's apartment, wearing his lightsaber-proof armor and gadgets, searching for a way to get his prey by surprise.

Trudov eventually arrived, finding his home in complete darkness, unable to react fast enough, though not because of his age, most Jedi were still powerful at fifty. He was probably too busy looking at the visor, or the pistol. And Bardan had come to the conclusion that battling wasn't going to make his conscience any cleaner if he survived. Blood sprayed all over the door because of the piercing effect of the shot; if he looked closer Bardan would bet he could find the bullet lodged in the panel. He knelt down beside the corpse on the ground, careful not to step in the blackish red puddle forming around the head.

The man didn't carry his lightsaber, but a small blaster, had several wallets and cardholders in his coat, some under different identities. Bardan took his datapad, if Vader needed proof he could use whatever was in there, and hurriedly searched the rooms for the lightsaber, in vain. The ancient Czerka Adjudicator pistol – easier to handle than a Verp in short range combat – had produced a loud blast when he shot Trudov so he needed to be out of there before the neighbors warned security.

A new feeling filled his heart as he walked out of the apartment and took the lift down. Was it accomplishment? Freedom? No, that couldn't be right. His right hand had shot twice that day without shaking, taking the lives of two individuals that had no consequence on his own. And he felt strangely detached, almost sad about it. Taking the route to the starport he opened his private link to contact what he had to think as his _client_. He waited almost a full minute for the black masked man to appear on his HUD.

"It's done," he said with the most neutral tone he could muster.

"Good." The comlink took away a lot of the booming effect of his fabricated voice. "You're proving yourself to be a worthy asset, Jusik. I may have more work for you in the future."

A tingling in the back of his neck nagged at him. "Before we get to that, let's discuss the terms again. Where do my wife and daughter stand now?"

The dark lord seemed to be taking a moment to think the question over. "Their fugitive status was lifted as we agreed."

Bardan breathed in. "And if I decide to stop working for you?"

"Irrelevant. Once you prove your allegiance to the Empire you are expected loyalty regardless of any contract."

That made sense, as absurd as it sounded.

"And payment?"

"It is being transferred as we speak."

He was right; in another green layout module he watched the credit balance go up fifty thousand. Relieved, Bardan nodded sharply.

"One more thing." He directed his gaze around the HUD to place a file into the outbox directory. "If you could get your lackeys to change my personal data with the following _modified_ one, it'd be great."

Waiting patiently for the transfer to happen, Vader crossed his arms thoughtfully.

"So it is done, then. You confirm that Jedi General Jusik perished on Coruscant during the execution of order 66."

That night was painful to remember. Streets flooded with civilians caught in the crossfire, hundreds of clone troopers in blue-marked armor containing the masses. Lightsabers dancing amidst blaster bolts before dying, leaving robed corpses on the catwalks. Bardan had watched some of it like a horror show while looking for Etain. That night, he found her body and retrieved it aboard the _Aay'han_ with the Nulls and Omega. He remembered himself clad in full _beskar'gam_, kneeling beside her wishing he'd been there to save her. It could have been him lying there with a smoking saber wound to the stomach.

Vader made him snap back to reality. "Tell me, _Gotab_. What would make a Jedi resign and join a band of mercenaries?"

He snorted in disdain at the question, feeling he didn't need to explain himself _yet again_, especially not to the servant of the biggest double-crosser of all time. A servant with a lot of power and influence. As repulsive as it was, Bardan _needed_ him as an ally, his family could use that.

"Depends on the person," he answered coldly. "But I don't believe one can make important life choices solely based on a philosophy. The Jedi order was dysfunctional to begin with, I'm surprised only very few actually drew the line."

Vader lifted the chin of his helmet as if to say something, but Bardan needed to focus on his piloting as he arrived at the starport. The way Vader was inclined to chat about conceptual ideas was disconcerting, it was very much like talking to a fellow Jedi.

"Trudov was one of them. He used his powers for his own benefits and to push the Corellian sector to insurrection."

He parked his vehicle at the rental lot and walked to the docking bay. "I wouldn't know about that."

"Leave the investigations to me, bounty hunter. I will contact you if we need your services again."

"Very well," Bardan said, nodding imperceptibly. "My lord."

He blinked the communication off and proceeded towards his ship, with its sharp-ended mandibles carrying the ordnance that pointed towards him in a frightening welcome. Survival made people do more or less ethically acceptable things, but even that concept itself seemed absurd now. When did he quit thinking of himself as a loyal servant of the Republic? Why did any allegiance matter when killing _had_ to be done somehow? If Vader hadn't hired him to kill Trudov, he'd have sent another bounty hunter who'd have failed and died. And another. Maybe a young _mando'ad_ would have taken the job, allured by the credits and the challenge.

Powering the engines from his remote access he went to the refreshers as the Aggressor started lifting on its repulsors. Catching glimpse of his reflection in the mirror he stood for a moment, taking in the sight of what he had become. The HUD's automatic analysis overlayed his own physical properties on his mirror image, showing his vitals and gear status. He was fine. He pulled his helmet off and ran water in the basin. Yeah, he still looked the same after killing two people. Runa would probably never even ask what he did, leaving him the liberty to decide when to let her know.

His message alarm bleeped inside the helmet.

I HAVE WHAT YOU NEED. WHEN CAN I SEE YOU?

-YNGA

Relief washed over him like a breeze. One last task, and he was free. He even wanted to comm Runa to tell her the good news – of course he wasn't certain of it, he'd have to test it – that midi-chlorians _could_ be controlled. That their children would be safe. That having his own biological offspring wouldn't present a danger any longer.

That his own baby daughter could live.

But those were dreams. And he wasn't one to chase illusions.

*

_to be continued_


End file.
